Please Come For Me
by GuiltyByDefault
Summary: When a muggle pediatrician finds out that Harry is abused no one can understand why Harry is placed with the most unlikely person - in Snape's care. And care he does! Find out what will happen when those two meet who have more in common than they think.
1. Doctor's Visit

**Chapter 1: Doctor's Visit**

_**Disclaimer/AN: (Don't worry it will be shorter in any upcoming chapters, it's just to get you started) **_

I do not make any money with this. No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to J.K.R..

Also this story does contain a lot of own ideas and characters which were never in the books. Major changes: Harry does not live in the cupboard, he already has the little room upstairs with all the padlocks and in this story he is about 9 years old, quite a bit before he discovers that he has magical abilities. Consequently most of the characters in the book will not be introduced (as of yet). Also he does not need to wear his glasses, apart from that appearance is pretty much the same unless described differently.

Eventually will be Harry/Severus guardian fic with some interesting turns, (no slash!) but reasonable plot build-up first though, I don't want this to be a Severus-rescues-Harry-without-reasonable-motivation-and-all-of-a-sudden-story but to take a different route.

Have fun reading.

_**Warning:**_ Contains physical and emotional abuse of children, emotional issues.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 1 - Doctor's Visit**

_When was this ever going to stop?_

Harry pinched his nose to keep it from bleeding. He hadn't bothered to look for some tissues. As Vernon had put it he '_was too filthy to touch any of their things_' even if it was for the sake of keeping his blood off their precious belongings. He kept holding his head high so none of the blood drops would fall onto the floor. _Just need to wait until it's dried then I can wash it off... if Uncle Vernon ever decides to unlock my door again that is, _Harry thought bitterly. _Although, if he doesn't, at least I would never have to see him again. Why can't this just be over?_

He gingerly laid his sore body onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His eyes wandered from the cracks in the stained wallpaper to the window which was shutting out most of the bright sunlight shining down on Little Whinging as Vernon had nailed several boards across it. Just now and then a little ray of sunlight made its way through to Harry, taking advantage of some slits Vernon had not fully managed to close up. Oh how he missed the sunlight! Not that there was anything special in his room he could look at – but still. Maybe. Just one day. Maybe one day he could put up a photo on the wall or dare say – even a bigger picture!

He loved dragons. He had once heard a little boy talk about them outside near the playground. The boy seemed to be speaking about some kind of fantasy movie at the theatre. Harry had never been to the theatre. _I wonder what it is like there, _he thought. But it seemed to be some place you had to go to with your friends. _I don't have any..._Harry mused saddened. _Probably I wouldn't be allowed in._

The boy had even shown drawings to his friend before Dudley had managed to sneak up on Harry and push him from behind, causing him to stumble terribly and finally fall flat-faced onto the ground in front of the two boys who giggled and finally ran off once the idea struck them that Dudley might be coming a little close. One of the drawings had fallen to the ground but before he could take another look at it or even touch it Dudley had snatched it away from his reach and torn it into pieces. _'This is just as stupid as you are anyway...idiot.' _

Well. At least he could dream.

That night he had tried to think hard about the dragon. He had closed his eyes and imagined what it had looked like, trying to imagine what _his_ dragon would look like. Of course it would be very beautiful and very tough. He gave him a very strong armoured skin with black scales and fiercely pointing midnight blue eyes. Also he had a very long horny tail and large wings. By the time Harry had finished _his_ dragon it probably looked more like a giant bat which had been blended into something Harry figured a dinosaur could possibly look like (the one with the big thorns on its tail).

_You can treat me as badly as you like, but still I CAN DREAM! ..._he nearly shouted the last part and fearfully clapped his hand to his mouth, eyes wide-opened. Obviously he hadn't for everything stayed quiet downstairs. Just to be on the safe side Harry let another minute pass lying on his bed rather guardedly ready to jump any minute if necessary. He remembered the padlocks. _Uncle Vernon couldn't possibly come in here without making a racket. Well at least they were paying off in a way now._

On the other hand... when would he be let out again? Sometimes Harry feared Vernon might just forget about him but usually it didn't take very long. Even if Vernon tried to keep him shut inside forever there was usually something that needed to be done along with the long list of chores he had to do already on a daily basis. Soon the urge to heap a greater workload on the boy was too tempting to resist. He just couldn't keep him locked up inside his room where he would be lying around lazily not doing anything at all!

When still nothing happened, Harry relaxed a little and made himself more comfortable on his bed, still holding his nose with one hand, putting the other one behind his head. He ran his fingers through his hair which was feeling damp. _Weird. It really has grown quite fast, _Harry thought. _Yet it was cut only a month ago and it already fell onto his forehead and nearly touched his ears. _

His hair wasn't sticking into every direction anymore at this length and actually he liked it this way very much. He had hated the way it looked like when it was violently shortened and had felt very naked without its length. But although it seemed more tameable at this length Vernon had been quite agitated when he had noticed the recurred length one morning. He gave Harry an awfully scary look as if he would charge any second and tear each hair out of his head individually.

Downstairs he heard some excited chattering going on again – probably Aunt Petunia managed to talk Uncle Vernon into a second rage momentarily.

_You're not helping, Aunt Petunia... _Harry thought bitterly. Usually he liked her better than Uncle Vernon. Well. He didn't actually like him. But. Didn't he? He _was_ grateful that he was given a shelter, food (occasionally at least) and at least some kind of human interaction.

_When they get mad at me at least they look at me. It doesn't hurt as much. When they pretend I am not around or ignore me – that's bad! So, well. I do not hate them... I think. I just don't know what I am supposed to do to make it right. To make them... less annoyed._

Harry rubbed his aching face with his hand and continued to immerge into his thoughts. Aunt Petunia was usually a lot nicer to him, at least compared to Uncle Vernon. As long as he didn't ask about his parents, talk back, talk at all. As long as the glamorous family's image was not besmirched she was quite manageable. But when it came to this topic she really turned vicious beyond recognition. Once her eyes were reduced to mere slits and her lips tightly pursed together she was a scary – _very_ _scary_ – woman to be around.

x x x

'Mrs. Dursley, it is really important that your son spent some more time outside. He is in a very bad physical shape (_and mental_, Harry thought but wisely kept his mouth shut, a skill he had acquired just recently). He REALLY needs to do some exercise and you need to take better care of his nutrition. Doesn't he have any friends to play with outside? Your nephew seems to have lost quite some weight, hasn't he? His clothes are practically bagging him.'

He turned towards his little patient who was suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

'Well you certainly shouldn't overdo it though. It is good to stay in shape and not put on extra weight but a little less and you will endanger your health as well. Promise me that you won't do that. It is very important to find a good balance. Look at your clothes, drop more weight and this is what your pants might do as soon as you leave this seat.' He smiled. The boy didn't. What a day.

'Yes Mr. Connor' Harry answered obediently, not daring to look up, afraid to meet Petunia's gaze. How was he supposed to gain weight if he wasn't fed enough with all the work he had to do? He bit his lip as a wash of emotions was welling up in his chest. _Did this man really care about his health?_ No one had ever bothered to ask. No probably he didn't. It was his job to ask! Again he had been stupid. Believing someone would actually bother.

The doctor gave Petunia a reproachful look not noticing the awkward frown that had formed on Harry's forehead. Examining her thin frame with his professional eye he continued.

'Well at least one of your boys seems to take after you. See that you take care of Dudley's health as well, won't you?'

Mrs. Dursley was too incensed to speak. She gasped vigorously flushing. Realizing how stupid she must look she rolled her eyes and looked very affronted and apologetically at the same time. How did this person even DARE to assume that Harry took after her? Remind her that she was even related to that... thing.

'Well of course does he have friends. Isn't that right my Duddykin, isn't Mommy right, oh so many nice friends has my little boy, don't you honeybum? He does lots of exercise but with his cousin always running wild, well, no one can really keep up with him.' Petunia ploughed on.

_Yeah sitting in front of the telly 8 hours a day surely is quite some exercise_, Harry thought. _He'd be half his weight if he did my chores! _

Dudley couldn't even bother feeling embarrassed as he was too busy trying to pry some sweets out of a candy jar which was standing next to Dr. Connor's desk. He had already managed to grab several toffees but now his porky little fist was stuck inside. Harry was sitting on one of the chairs in front of Dr. C's desk and tried to keep his face straight and think of the least funny thing he could imagine to keep from laughing out loud. This was becoming an increasingly difficult task as Dudley started whining, causing Petunia to blush even more fervently and hurry over to rescue him. Yet he refused to let go of the handful of toffees he had already acquired.

'Dudley.' Dr. C, feeling very proven in his just elaborated point, crouched down next to the 10year old boy and tried to put on his most convincing smile. 'Tell you something. We'll make a deal. Be a good boy just like your cousin was (at that Petunia shot Harry a very aggravated glare behind the doctor's back) and I will give you a toffee as soon as you are done.'

Harry's heart sank at that glare he received and stopped dangling his feet immediately. He hadn't done anything wrong. He had been a good boy. He had felt very tense being forced to come here for going to the doctor's was generally a delicate affair with the Dursleys. They hadn't been to Dr. Connor before. Their last doctor had started to ask awkward questions when Harry didn't show up for several check-ups so Vernon decided that they would go somewhere else where no one would dare 'ask stupid questions which weren't to bother them anyway'.

Harry didn't like going especially when this meant he had to meet someone new, who hadn't already been told how bad he was. Who possibly _liked _him and therefore made Petunia angry at him. Dr. C seemed to be a nice man. Harry reckoned that he was approximately going on 35, quite tall (to Harry he was huge) and having brown hair which was slightly longer than it probably should be for some professional, Harry reckoned. It was carelessly combed and tucked behind his ears to keep it from falling into his eyes (without success).

Also he didn't look like a usual doctor to him. The last one he had had was quite old, always wearing some kind of weird pullover underneath the white coat. Dr. C rather seemed to favour casual wear. He wore a white polo shirt buttoned up only halfway and some sneakers to match his jeans. He was even wearing an earring on his left ear. Petunia had frowned at him the instant she saw him, Harry thought he looked quite interesting for a doctor. Usually there weren't so many interesting people around in Little Whinging.

He had come to this visit without frowning, received the vaccination which was due and had not complained about a single thing. The doctor had commented on his bravery and ... oh no! Finally he realised his grave mistake! He had dared to make Dudley look less brave, less heroic and sweet than Petunia had praised him to be. He'd pay for that. Again.

A sudden squeak made Harry's mind jump back to the present. Dr. C had figured that Dudley would not be convinced easily and had taken advantage of his very unfortunate position. While the little (well _short_) boy still struggled to force the sweets out of the jar he had reached for the vaccination and given him the shot he needed while he wasn't able to flee.

'Oh Duddyboy my honey all is good now!' Petunia fussed over him.

'You are so brave,' she praised (_as if_, Harry thought) and managed to pull him into a hug as he had finally let go of the sweets, rather out of shock than willingly.

'Well are we done?' She tried to look as good-naturedly and sweet as she could with her lips tightly pursed together.

When Dr. C nodded she took Dudley's hand to walk him outside and beckoned Harry to follow. Again Harry's heart sank a little more as he noticed the curt nod Petunia had given him and shuffled his little feet towards the door. Just as he reached it he bumped into Dudley who had broken away from Petunia's hand and now stood glaring daggers at Dr. C.

'I wanna have my candy NOW!' he squeaked, outstretching his hand.

Dr. C couldn't help but grin. Never had he seen such an impertinent kid and yet he felt sorry for him at the same time. _He must have gotten this attitude somewhere_, he thought.

He handed Dudley the promised toffee which he took, receiving a very reproachful look, due to the fact that it was only one. When he made his way back to Petunia who was already pushing Harry out of the front door he heard someone call him.

'Harry, come back here!'

_What had he done now?_

Harry looked at his Aunt who looked equally confused, but for the sake of playing along the nice and good family game she gingerly said

'Harry, go to the Doctor and see what he wants... _sweetie_.'

Petunia thought she'd throw up saying this, she would never forgive the boy for having to take him to the doctor and having to fake a non-questionable family life. But what would people – Dr. C – say if she kept calling her Duddykin, her Dudders, her beloved Dudley nice names and the idiot, the FREAK, exactly what he was?

'Surely you wouldn't have left without taking your treat as well!' Dr. C grinned broadly at him handing him a toffee as well, reaching out for the boy's shoulder to pat him on the back.

_Did the boy just flinch?_

Harry muttered a 'thanks' and quickly shoved it into his pocket, then shuffled back to Petunia without looking up.

_These two kids really couldn't be any more different_, Dr. C thought. _Maybe I can figure them out._

'Oh,' Dr. C called after Petunia as she finally thought this charade would be over.

'Make sure your boy gets his exercise in the sunlight so he won't look so unhealthily pale anymore. He should follow his cousin's example!'

And with that he quickly shut the door of his office before any protest could reach his squeal-deafened ears, grinning broadly when he leaned his back against the door hearing some muttering and ushering outside which eventually faded.

x x x

Petunia was fuming. She shoved Harry in the back of her car so firmly that he bumped the side of his head and started rubbing it vigorously.

_Ouch, that really hurt!_ He thought saddened while Petunia stretched out her hand towards him.

_What?_

'Give that sweet to me. NOW!' Her commanding voice left little room for discussion.

Harry dispiritedly reached into his pocket and surrendered the toffee to his aunt. He was so stupid. How could he have thought that he was allowed to keep something, anything, he had been given, for only one second? _I should have eaten it right away_, Harry thought. But back in the treatment room he hadn't dared, feeling Aunt Petunia's gaze firmly upon him.

His aunt slammed the backdoor in his face and ran over to Dudley who had seated himself on the co-driver's seat, handing over the sweet she had just hunted down.

'Here you go honey, do not fret so. We won't see _that _doctor again, I promise.'

With a grin Dudley stuffed the sweet into his already cramped mouth, then turned around to face Harry and mumbled 'Wait till I tell Daddy! He's gonna give it to you good!'

Harry sighed.

And so it had come. Once the three of them had reached #4 Privet Drive, Harry noticed that his uncle must already be at home. The visit to the doctor had taken longer than expected – thanks to Dudley's fussing – and now he lost no time in telling his Daddy how awful everything – Harry – had been. Not that this was necessary for Vernon Dursley to get mad at Harry. He already was angry. A lot.

He had strained himself for a week to ignore the boy, not to give in to that urge to strangle him to be able to present two children – alive – at the doctor's. By the time Harry shuffled inside Vernon was already towering over him. Fearfully he looked up to his uncle but before he could even try to say something in his defence, (and WHAT exactly should he have said anyway?) he was lifted up by the scruff of his neck and dragged into the living room where he was slammed onto the floor.

He tried to raise his arms, covering his head protecting it from the blows but Vernon just grabbed his hand and pulled it away, vigorously slapping him with his other hand.

'How _dare _you make Dudley look bad in front of someone else? You will respect everybody in this house or you will be very sorry for it! DO NOT GIVE ME THAT LOOK, BOY!'

'I am sorry Uncle Vernon! Pleeeease believe me!' Harry pleaded. 'I didn't mean to. I am sorry! Please stooooop.. OUCH!' He held his cheek where his uncle had backhanded him.

'Are. YOU. Telling. Me. What. To. Do?' He slapped each word into Harry's face.

'Noooooooo. Please I am sorry I really am! I will never do it again!' Tears started running down his face.

While Harry still tried to evade his uncle's blows unsuccessfully, Petunia lost no time excitedly telling her husband how that barefaced quack of a doctor had the nerve telling her that her Duddykin needed more exercise and sunlight.

'Like Harry,' she spat repulsively.

Upcoming visits at the doctor's were always a straining experience for all of the Dursleys. It was well known that they had two kids (voluntarily or not) and both were due for certain examinations or – in this case – vaccinations. They couldn't possibly leave Harry out of it for people would start asking questions why they only brought one kid when the record said something different as it had already happened before. Also they could not keep changing doctors as this would also raise suspicion eventually.

On the other hand it meant that especially Vernon had to bite back his frustrations and anger for at least a week to not leave any marks or bruises on the boy which could be noticed by the professionals. He was such a pitiful man. Yet he had succeeded in making the boy feel as miserable as he could for the last seven days even if he wasn't to lash out at him. It hadn't been easy but he had made sure the boy hadn't had a single joyful moment during that last week. Yes! He truly was an exceptionally clever man.

'Don't worry son.' Vernon smiled ferociously at Dudley who was sitting in his favourite telly chair stuffing more candy into his mouth as if it were popcorn observing the scene being clearly entertained by it.

'I will make sure he will not embarrass you like this again!' And with these words he pushed Harry aside and kicked him into the right direction.

'Your room! NOW!'

Harry fled from the scene hearing his uncle stomping madly behind him. He could just imagine the purple-faced monster closing up on him as he tried to run quicker when he successfully bumped into his bedroom door as it wouldn't open fast enough. His nose started bleeding instantly and he could just in time cover it with his hands to keep the blood from ruining the carpet.

'Now you are looking just as dumb as you are.' Vernon sneered happily.

'Don't you dare make a mess in there!' He spat as he pushed Harry inside with his left hand, fumbling clumsily with a bunch of keys in his right hand.

He slammed the door shut and Harry heard the familiar clicking noises from the padlocks outside his room.

He still held his nose as the bleeding refused to cease when a loud _CRACK _made him twirl around and look at his window in surprise. He didn't dare walk closer towards it but watched Vernon nailing boards across it, running out of steam on a bewildering rate.

'See if you will still be less pale than Dudley in a week!' He snickered happily before clutching one more board across the window, leaving Harry in a now very dark room, congratulating himself on his brilliant idea.

_Great_, Harry thought. _Exactly what I need_.

x x x

And there Harry lay, feeling very miserable to say the least. The darkness wasn't even the worst part. He missed the sound of birds and any sign of outside life as everything seemed to reach his senses only very muffled. He tried to think of something to distract him.

His mind kept wandering as he tried to think back to a time where he was happy – _My Happy Childhood_ – this was his favourite game. Having long discovered that there were not really so many (if any) events in his life that had been truly happy - at least not that he remembered - he soon started to _'replay'_ the days which unfortunately had gone wrong and _'adjusted'_ them the way they were supposed to be and _surely would have been if only he had tried a little harder_.

Harry just had to be nicer, less troublesome, less...freaky... less _everything_. Maybe then he could finally find some of the acceptance he was so sorely craving for.

Gingerly he started tracing the outlines of the bruise which started to show on his swollen cheek where his uncle had backhanded him and closed his eyes once more.

x x x

_'Grab your seat Harry, we HAVE to get going, we are late already!' Petunia ushered him inside her car and forcefully closed the door slamming it right into his face. His eyes immediately teared up and he tried to rub his cheek to ease the pain where the heavy door had hit him. Having leaned against the inside of the door he nearly fell out when it was yanked open again. Fearfully he pushed himself back into his seat and tried to look less miserable only to see his aunt's face worried and stretching her hand towards his head touching his cheek lightly._

'_Oow sweetie, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to close that door right into your face. If it wasn't for Duddy we wouldn't be in such a rush now!' Casting Dudley who had already taken the co-driver's seat a very stern look her tone dropped dramatically as she said 'Dudley, get your butt off that seat NOW. Only good kids are allowed to sit there. Harry gets to sit on the co-driver's seat today.'_

_Harry's heart leapt. That was nice. He had been good. Only good kids got to sit there. She had said he was a good kid._

x x x

'I am a good kid_,' _Harry mumbled with closed eyes and his lip curled into a little smile. 'Oh that's nice, how nice. She said I am a good kid.'

Harry snapped back to the present violently when something yanked the covers from his bed causing him to fall to the floor. _Ouch._ His wrist made a snapping sound but he tried to ignore it.

'What the HELL do you think are you babbling on about, stupid boy?'Vernon snapped, delightedly watching the effect he had caused as Harry crawled backwards on the floor trying to get some space in between the two of them visibly trying hard to keep from whimpering.

'Are you COMPLETELY out of your mind now? I always knew you are strange but your weirdness is just increasing each and every single day. Wouldn't have thought that was possible. Get your lazy ass out of here and fix us supper... FREAK.'

_Ouch. That hurt. _Harry quickly bit his lip to prevent a nasty comment from slipping out of his mouth. He knew better and silently praised himself for finally starting to control these comments and not let them slip anymore. It had taken quite some time and painful experiences but he was getting there!

He guardedly watched Vernon while he squeezed past his uncle which was a rather difficult task regarding the size of his room – and his uncle. Just as he thought that he had successfully slipped past him he felt a tight grip yanking him backwards. Struggling to keep his balance he cast a quick look at his uncle estimating the need to run for cover. Vernon just sneered at him.

'Go and get your filthy face washed. And do. not. dare. stain anything in the bathroom. Get going. You look like an idiot.'

With a mighty push Harry was shoved towards the door and quickly scurried away. Once he was in the bathroom he quickly closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror. His cheek had bruised visibly. The marks where his uncle's fingers had connected with his face were still visible. Gingerly Harry put his own hand across the bruises.

_Gee. _He really did look filthy.

His nose had continued to bleed a little once he had dozed off because of his stupid day-dreaming and dried blood was smeared across his mouth, cheeks and throat. Just now he realized how itchy it was starting to feel. As he reached for the tap he noticed that his hands were all bloody as well, although that blood had dried by now, too. Quickly he rubbed it off his hands and face until everything was clean. He grabbed some toilet paper and dried the sink and tap as well as his face and flushed it down the toilet, not having dared to use one of the towels Petunia had washed and hung up for the family recently – he wasn't qualified anyway, he wasn't – _the family._

He grabbed another handful of toilet papers, dampened them and quickly made his way out of the bathroom to clean up any other stains he might have left without thinking. He was relieved to see that there weren't really any.

'Get down here NOW and fix supper, boy!' He heard his uncle bellow from downstairs. Quickly shoving the damp toilet paper into his pocket he ran downstairs and made his way to the kitchen.

_What day is it? _Harry thought, his mind racing. _What bloody day is it? _He tried to think very hard but it was so easy to lose track of time when you weren't allowed to go outside, watch TV, read the newspaper.

_No, that was it! We had to see Dr. C today! It's Wednesday! Uncle Vernon had said it – "Boy wait until you come back from that bloody quack on Wednesday. Give me ONE LOOK and you'll be damn sorry for it! No doctor left you can run to and rant on about a single thing as if we ever treated you badly, just wait till Wednesday till this visit is over..." _

He was right. It was Wednesday – Wednesday was fish time.

Harry quickly shuffled to the fridge to get out the salmon which Petunia usually bought on Tuesday. He knew how Vernon liked it – fried in fat dripping. He opened the fridge and his heart sank deep into his stomach, he suddenly felt very disheartened – _there wasn't any. _

'What exactly is the problem NOW, boy?'Vernon was hollering. It was never a good sign when he actually called Harry _boy_.

'ThereIsn'tAny'Harry whispered.

'WHAT?'

'There isn't any fish in the fridge Uncle Vernon. Maybe I can fix you something el...'

'WHAT?' Vernon cut in. 'Why isn't there any fish?'

He heaved his massive body out of his chair and stomped towards his nephew.

'Honestly I don't know Uncle Vernon!'

Harry shrunk back from the fridge as his uncle cornered him in the alcove of the kitchen were all the cooking was done. He no longer trusted his voice and just tried to look as neutral as possible. That was a hard job if you were just being scared to death.

'Probably he already ate it because he wanted to have it all to himself!' Dudley squawked from his telly chair. 'Look at him. How guilty he looks! Yeah like he'll ever admit it!'

'IS THIS TRUE BOY?'Vernon was outraged. _How could the boy DARE. _

All blood seemed to have left Harry's face. He paled when he saw his uncle unbuckling his belt. In vain he tried to take cover in the corner he was being pushed into, arms raised high above his head, waiting for the buckle to make contact with his body.

'Vernon! No! It was I.'

Had Harry dared to look up, he would have seen his uncle, dumbfounded by the absurdity of the situation. He turned around and looked into his wife's flustered face.

'Vernon, I simply forgot. The boy's. The doctor's visit. You know how stressful that usually is. I simply forgot to do the shopping. We still have some barbequed steak in the fridge. What about having that, once it's done.' She finished somewhat lamely.

Belt still in hand, Vernon pointed at Harry, his index finger hovering dangerously close in front of his eyes.

'This is entirely YOUR fault!'Lashing out with the belt towards the door he motioned for Harry to get out.

'Get going! No dinner for you today. And do something about that BLOODY hair!'

x x x

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	2. Something Isn't Right

**Chapter 2: Something Isn't Right**

_**Disclaimer/AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this.

_**Warnings: **_Contains physical and psychological abuse, emotional issues. Consider yourselves warned.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 2 - Something Isn't Right**

The sun was setting slowly in Little Whinging, colouring the streets with a warm shade of crimson. The leaves of the trees were still green and probably wouldn't wither for another month or two since it was in the middle of summer. School holidays had begun recently and kids were playing outside even after dinnertime as they could sleep in. The parents seemed to be enjoying themselves too, some watching their kids in the park catching up on the newest neighbourhood gossip, others talking a walk with their spouse chattering animatedly about the day's events.

_I don't mind school. _Harry thought._ It's just... nobody wants to talk to me anyway. _

Harry was lying on his bed again, eyes closed, his mind wandering aimlessly. Now and then he would hear a strained sound coming from somewhere outside. Or was it just his imagination?

Yeah, school was nice. Had been at least. In his first year lots of children had approached Harry happily and included him in their games.

_That was fun_, Harry remembered sadly.

It wasn't to last long though. Soon, Dudley, who was initially invited as well, was left out because he ruined every single game. If they played tag Dudley would start cornering kids leaving them scared and crying, 'Simon says' had soon been revised to 'Dudley says'. Nice toys were usually his (which he wouldn't share) or other kid's which he hunted down (and then wouldn't share).

Dudley had been very surprised to find himself being left out for once in his life. Yet it had not occurred to him that he might be responsible for the other kid's behaviour towards him. He blamed Harry for that because it was the only thing he had learnt to do in such a situation.

Besides, _Harry _seemed to be popular, driving the other kids away from him. Petunia had spent many evenings trying to comfort him.

'They are mean to me, Mommy! They call me names. They don't like me on purpose!' Dudley had wailed.

'Maybe you could start sharing some of your toys. Only some!' She added hastily for she had received a very shocked glare.

'You know, lots of kids don't have so many nice toys and they like to try new things. It is a good way to make friends.'

Before these words could sink in and unfold their meaning, Petunia's effort was squashed by her husband. Up to now he had been sitting in his oversized lounge chair in front of the TV, grinding his teeth because of the ongoing whining behind his back. Harry had been sitting on the floor watching the scene serenely. When Vernon suddenly jumped up he backed away several feet wondering if he had done something wrong.

Vernon turned around facing his wife and very agitated son whose eyes were puffy from crying, his face's colour matching the little toy fire engine he was clasping.

'Boy listen closely!' Vernon's hands were balled into fists, resting on either side of his belly.

'You don't need to share with others! They will break your nice toys anyway and think you have gone all soft. Do you want them to think you are some kind of spineless wind-bag who hands out giveaways to the needy?'

'No, Daddy!' Dudley shook his head vigorously.

'_You_ don't need them to be your friends. _You _are above that. They just need to respect you! You will find others to play with who are as tough as you are. REAL friends.'

Finishing his sentence he turned around once more launching an attack on Harry, stopping a mere yard in front of him, fists still in his hips. Watching the little silhouette cowering at his feet, tearful eyes wide-opened, bottom lip quivering, he sneered contentedly and faced his son.

'See Duddy. What do you need friends for when people just need to RESPECT you? You won't have any problems, see?' He kept nodding, trying to support his well-elaborated point.

Clearly the little boy was rather impressed by this demonstration than by his mother's reasoning. He started chewing on his lips, obviously thinking very hard. Then his puffy eyes glittered and his face lightened up considerably. Without warning he sent his little fire engine flying towards Harry who – still crouching at Vernon's feet – didn't dare to move. He yelped when the toy hit his left shoulder painfully.

'Oowie! Heeeey...!' He wanted to protest but Vernon leaned down until he was on eye-level, clearly being appalled by the audacity of this outburst.

'You were just saying?' _GLARE_.

_Silence._

'You could have broken your nice toy, Dudley.' Harry chocked helplessly. 'Lucky you it didn't.'

Next day in school Dudley had tried this new tactics bullying away until lunch time and soon discovered that none of the kids were making fun of him anymore or calling him any names. He never had been nice to them, but now at least they had a reason for fearing him! Now he could concentrate on his next problem – Harry's friends or rather – Harry having any friends.

It didn't take a lot of threatening since everybody was already scared. Harry could guess what his cousin had told the kids, although he never learnt about any details. He just noticed how they were talking behind his back, looking the other way when he had merrily joined them wanting to play too.

x x x

_That really had hurt. _

A sickening feeling spread in Harry's stomach and tears had started to well up in his eyes. He opened them and started rubbing to ease the sting. Resting his hands on his face for a moment he sighed deeply. As long as he was living with Dudley, as long as people knew that he was related to that person, he would never have any friends.

'Harry, we really can't play with you anymore.' The kids in school had told him timidly.

'Please don't get us into trouble, kay? We'll still be friends. We'll just pretend that we are not, right?'

It had worked. They pretended well and soon all was forgotten about Harry. Apart from new kids who joined the class and hadn't been told how _dangerous_ Harry was to be around, there weren't enough suicidal kids left he could play with.

Harry didn't want to get others into trouble. It usually was his fault anyway. If he had learnt anything from Uncle Vernon it was that he was guilty by default.

The teachers in school talked to him but it didn't help much. Harry had to make sure that he wasn't outscoring Dudley on any task they were possibly given which was a very tough challenge in itself. He had to make up so many mistakes and give stupid answers that by the end of his second year all his teachers pitifully regarded him to be a hopeless case state funding was wasted on. They felt sorry for the little boy as he usually tried very hard to no avail.

x x x

Harry reached for the toilet paper he had stuffed into his pocket earlier the day to blow his nose. It had been damp and was making a fluff now. He managed to extract a handful of atomized pieces but soon figured that he would never retrieve all of it at this rate. Petunia would be outraged if she found this in the laundry maybe ruining other clothes as well.

Pushing himself off his covers, Harry heard the snapping sound in his wrist again. _OUCH. _

He switched on the lights and tried to examine his hand. It was swollen and looked bluish. But maybe that was just the brightness (or more specifically the lack thereof). It was impossible to see anything inside this room with his window barricaded and a light bulb which probably couldn't even compete with a decrepit firefly.

Actually Harry was surprised that it hadn't broken down yet. He rarely used it suspecting that the durability was probably coming to a close some time in near future. It had been there as long as he could remember. There wasn't much he could do about it anyway so he decided to drop the matter and get started on the more pressing issue.

He stood on his left trouser leg and pulled his jeans down with his intact arm, pulling with his other foot. There was no need to unbutton or unzip as it was hanging so loosely he feared Dr. C might be right about accidentally dropping his pants in public eventually. He stepped out of it and turned the pocket in question inside out.

_Memo to me...don't do that again! _Harry thought, cursing himself silently for having put it inside the pocket in the first place.

After a couple of minutes he had operated all missing pieces out of his clothing. _I'd be a great surgeon, _Harry thought. _I'd be a real doctor, like Dr. C. I would wear whatever I pleased, get my ear pierced and say 'No you are too unhealthily nourished to get a toffee!' when some oversized Dudley-like kid demanded a sweet._

Actually Harry hadn't thought about any career options yet. Pressing the shreds back into a little ball he laid it aside mustering it.

_Well great. It's perfect. I should keep this if I ever applied for bin man. Surely I'd qualify. I could even get promoted. 'Harry Potter – Head Bin Man'. He could even start his own business – 'Potter Waste Management: You chop it we drop it!' If I make it till graduation alive that is. Although. A bin man's career probably didn't require him to graduate. Conveniently enough every single one of his teachers thought that he was thick as a brick.'_

Bitterness accompanied Harry's thoughts. Why was he so worthless?

_Why can't I figure out what everybody is expecting of me?_

Grabbing the fluff ball again he estimated the need to hop back into his pants but decided against it. Harry glanced towards his window and seeing that the sunset-weakened rays of light weren't making it through to him anymore decided that it must be time to sleep soon.

Vernon hadn't yet locked him up inside as he was sure he'd have heard the padlocks, still he didn't need to push his luck though. If he was asleep once Vernon did shut him in, maybe he couldn't get into any more trouble than he already was. Avoidance was generally good tactics around here.

_Remind me, why am I in trouble again? _Harry thought. _I didn't make the doctor's appointment. I didn't forget to buy food. A little diet wouldn't harm Uncle Vernon anyway. Maybe I'll suggest that to him another time when a sudden wish not to have another birthday kicks in. _

Was it really a sudden wish that hadn't occurred to him before?

Harry decided to drop the issue for the time being. At least I wouldn't have to worry about some kind of employment anymore.

He threw the ball into his waste bin, then folded his pants neatly and laid them across his chair. He turned off the lights which pointedly clicked (great) and headed for his bed. He pulled back the cover and carefully crawled inside.

Rolling onto his side, he hugged his pillow closer towards his body and closed his eyes only to immediately open them again, his heartbeat quickened considerably.

Harry rolled onto his other side, still clutching his pillow.

He was such a baby. Not being able to sleep._ How childish. _

Harry didn't know how it had come. It suddenly had happened and henceforth occurred on a regular basis. He just couldn't get off to sleep without rolling back and forth endlessly. Somehow dark thoughts kept coming once he closed his eyes, wrapped into complete darkness and silence. Usually there had been some light from the street lamp in front of his window. But now that his room was fortified there wasn't a single spot of brightness. His heart sank at the thought.

Tears started to well up in Harry's eyes again. He hugged closer to his pillow, burying his head into it. He wanted to cry some long unshed tears but was too stricken with emotions.

x x x

Harry rolled onto his other side, maybe the thirtieth or fortieth time. He had stopped counting when he had gotten all mixed up with it. His hand didn't hurt anymore. Neither did his head. That's nice... he thought. Probably still looks stupid, but for what it's worth... Already he wasn't feeling tired anymore. He pushed himself up and sat back against his bed. His room didn't seem to be as dark anymore. Little spots of light were dancing in front of his window. Harry caught glimpses of them when they flew in between the slits of the boards. Were they fireflies? He strained himself to see them clearer but just as he wanted to get out of his bed he heard a shuffling noise outside his door, then

'_Click. Click. Click.'_

Was Uncle Vernon finally shutting him in? It was too late (or too early) for that. Or... _he wasn't!_ Was he unlocking them? In the middle of the night? To come into his room? When he was supposed to be sleeping?

Harry hugged his knees against his chest firmly clutching his arms around his legs.

He didn't dare breathe.

'_Click.' _That was only one to go.

'_Click.' _

Near rigid with fear Harry pulled his bedcover over his knees and half his face, just leaving the nose and eyes uncovered, staring at the door. Someone was sneaking out there. Slowly the knob of his door turned. It would open any second.

Yanking himself out of his shock Harry streched out on his back again, pulling the cover right over his head. Maybe he could just pretend to be sleeping. His breathing was alarmingly loud. He clapped one hand over his mouth but still could hear his heavy accelerated gasping.

'_Click.' _His door had been shut again.

He didn't dare move.

_Was he alone again? _

He felt someone's presence linger around menacingly.

'_Creak.' _Something heavy was moving across the floor boards of his room!

With both hands Harry clutched to his cover violently shaking. He had to make sure and check. Slowly he moved the cover down, inch by inch, holding his breath. His knuckles were white, forcefully holding onto his cover, his lifeline_. _

_Just a few more inches. _

Time seemed to stand still.

He finally screwed up his courage and dropped the bedspread, staring into two ugly eyes hovering above him! Someone was laughing disgustingly in the silence.

'NOOOOOOOO!'

Harry started to scream but it felt like the word had never formed on his lips. Two fat hands were retching him. He gasped for air, uncontrollably slapping his hands above his head trying to free himself from that iron grip, flailing limbs everywhere.

'NOOOOOOOO! STOOOOOP!'

He violently slashed around himself getting tangled up in his way-too-big shirt. It felt like he was being tied down by it and it got worse the more he struggled.

'LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME BE! GO AWAY!' he screamt in desperation.

Eyes wide-opened, he stared directly into the two ugly bulging eyes seeing nothing else, feeling the fingers around his throat.

'You are a freak.' A horribly icy voiced breathed.

'And this is where you die.'

Harry tried to jerk his head away, hitting it against his bedpost, still screaming. Then he opened his eyes.

x x x

Violent muttering penetrated Harry's door as he heard the familiar clicking outside. He heard Aunt Petunia's voice trying to calm her husband. He seemed too agitated to unlock the door. Harry's heart sank.

_Another dream. Again. _

A couple of moments passed in which Harry tried to calm his breathing and lie down again but to no avail. His heart was hammering against his chest, his shirt was completely soaked with sweat. His hair was falling onto his forehead covering his eyes with damp streaks. He ran his fingers through it so he'd be able to see and noticed that his hand was shaking badly.

Finally the door burst open with a bang sending splinters from the doorframe everywhere. It would have been obvious that Harry feigned sleep if he still remained silent after this.

'WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK ARE YOU SCREAMING ABOUT, BOY?'

Vernon was outraged. He switched on the light but everything remained dark inside Harry's room. The only light came from the hallway outside and the master's bedroom at the end of the floor.

'That's it. I WILL NOT PUT UP WITH THIS ANYMORE!' He thundered.

Having said this, he grabbed Harry by his hair and dragged him out of his bed only to throw him towards the severely abused door which hung loosely in its hinges. He snatched the pants lying on the chair and flung them at the little creature, grabbing on to the doorframe for dear life.

'Get. Out. Now.' He added, oddly calm.

Harry was totally traumatized. Seizing his pants he backed away from his uncle and aunt who had been standing in the hallway helplessly, now approaching her husband.

He stopped just in time to avoid falling down the stairs backwards and observed the bizarre scene. It felt like he had left his body and was now watching with someone else's eyes. He felt paralysed. Everything seemed to be so unreal. This couldn't be happening!

'Vernon, dear. You cannot throw him out!' Petunia tried to appease her husband.

'What will the neighbours think?'

'I DO NOT BLOODY CARE.' His voice was back as he screamt on top of his lungs.

'IT'S IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! NO ONE WILL SEE! DIDN'T YOU HEAR HIM BELLOW? HE PRACTICALLY ASKED FOR IT!'

Harry still struggled to get into his pants. The legs just kept getting tangled and his body felt like it might collapse anytime soon. As he finally managed to pull the pants up Vernon charged and captured him by the scruff of his neck.

He tried to pull Harry towards him so forcefully the fabric gave in to the sheer brutality with a tearing noise. Feeling the neck of his shirt being dramatically enlarged by that violent attack he threw his hands at his throat. The collar of his shirt had been expanded so much that it was hanging loosely over his right shoulder. Vernon decided to give his assault another chance of success, this time grabbing Harry's bare right upper arm, forcing him down the stairs.

Harry tried to get hold of the handrail but couldn't reach it. He struggled to keep his balance and the only thing which kept him from falling over and breaking his neck was the iron grip on his arm.

_It felt filthy_. Harry was disgusted by the touch on his bare skin. Once they reached the front door Vernon yanked it open and with a ferocious push sent the boy flying a couple of feet. His knees got cut by the gravel lying in the driveway.

'DON'T YOU DARE COME BACK BEFORE MORNING OR I'LL TAN YOUR HIDE GOOD! GO SCREAM ELSEWHERE. BLOODY HELL!'

With that he ushered Petunia back inside who had paled visibly but didn't dare to intervene and closed the door deliberately.

Scrambling to his feet Harry started running. He didn't have his shoes or socks but the asphalt felt still warm. Tears of confusion and fear were running down his cheeks.

_Where was he supposed to go?_

Harry could only think of one place where he had felt truly happy, _safe_. Taking a few turns he headed towards a little playground he had discovered a few months ago. It was little and Dudley had never discovered it. Harry had sneaked away a couple of times and played there when Vernon wasn't at home, Dudley out playing somewhere else and Petunia not paying close attention to him, probably busy keeping a close record of what was happening in the neighbourhood.

Once a few kids had been there, a girl and a boy, the girl obviously younger, maybe 3 or 4 years old, the boy at least twice her age, but apart from that it was mainly deserted. Each time he'd received an awful hiding once Uncle Vernon found out for Aunt Petunia naturally had told him of his absence as soon as she had noticed and her husband had come back from work.

But he hadn't given away his secret place! If it wasn't for that, he would have been in for something else anyway. He had truly treasured this place, it gave him so much solace.

Maybe fifteen minutes passed which felt like hours. Harry was starting to worry that he had missed the right junction because of the darkness but then he saw the metal of a swing reflect the dim light of the crescent moon. It looked exactly the way he remembered it to be, the way he _needed_ it to be. Beautiful and serene.

_He had found it. _

Sitting down on the swing, he needed a moment to collect his breath. His hands clutched the iron chain it was suspended from as he dangled his feet in the sand below, letting it rinse through his toes.

Then his emotions caught up with his condition. A heart-wrenching sob escaped his lips. Startled by the loudness of it he jerked, clapping a hand to his mouth. Pushing off the ground with his feet he gave the swing a light twist and gazed around, trying to take in his surroundings.

By now tears were freely running down his cheeks and falling onto his thoroughly dampened shirt. Although it was still warm outside he started shivering because of the clamminess of his clothing. Hugging his arms fiercely to his chest he started rocking back and forth.

_Why had Uncle Vernon done this to him? What was he supposed to do?_

_WHAT HAD GOTTEN INTO HIM TO COME RUNNING HERE? IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?_

Harry berated himself viciously as the darkness seemed to close up on him. Sobbing heart-wrenchingly another flow of tears released some emotions which he had shoved back inside, deep down. He gazed at the stars feeling numb.

x x x

After a couple of minutes Harry didn't have any tears left to cry. His eyes were burning and stinging but rubbing them only made it worse. He wasn't shivering anymore, quite contrary. His forehead felt very hot and he had started to sweat again.

As he was trying to regain some common sense by rocking back and forth to calm himself, gently stroking his cheeks with the knuckles of his hands, some more sobs escaped from the depths of his broken heart.

He snapped back to the present, when a stifled gasp of surprise reached his ears. Drawing in a sharp breath he scanned his surroundings, stopping dead when his gaze fell on someone standing next to the trees at the junction of the main road and the pathway leading towards this playground.

He could only make out the silhouette, it seemed to be a tall person. It just stood there, one hand pocketed, the other one held in front of his mouth as if caught in surprise, watching him. Casting a quick look around Harry decided to run for it. Taking the other path which led away from the playground he fled.

After a couple of metres he jerked around to see if he was being followed, stumbling terribly. The person seemed to have walked towards the now abandoned swing and stretched its hand out, as if trying to get a grasp of Harry.

Without looking back he ran as fast as his sore feet would allow him to.

_I need to get back to the Dursleys!_ Harry thought, running for dear life.

x x x

_What the hell had just happened? _

Walking closer towards the swings, he reached for the iron chains to stop the rapid movement as they were dangling wildly.

They felt still warm where little children's hands had gripped them tightly just moments before. Could he dare trust his eyes? He felt the warmth of the chains once more as if to reinforce the thought that someone actually had held on to them a few moments ago. He hadn't imagined. He wasn't becoming insane.

Running his fingers through his entangled hair he stopped at his ear, scratching the little fang which was pierced into it. With a light shake of his head he hurried towards the other end of the playground where the kid had disappeared. He ran down the road in either direction but didn't get a second glimpse of the kid. It had suddenly sprung up and then just disappeared into the darkness.

_What was this kid doing here in the middle of the night? _It was an hour past midnight.

x x x

Tom had had a rough day at work. He had been tired. Although his working times were now a lot more convenient than they had been when he was still assigned to the emergency room of the local hospital he hadn't really got used to it yet. He liked the work very much as the stressfulness of the job usually caused him to surpass himself getting lots of quality work done. But the lack of sleep due to his messed-up biorhythm exacted its toll.

It hadn't been easy to surrender his beloved position to another colleague and keep working at the GP's for a while, but his wife hadn't settled for any discussions. She was working as an architect and having managed to complete a huge project recently, she had acquired quite some good reputation and international recognition.

He was thrilled to find her succeed with her work, but also this meant she had to do some travelling now and then. Usually it had fit into both their timetables to take care of the kids, but this summer it was an entirely different matter. Sam was having his cherished summer break and his father couldn't bear the thought of dropping him in a child care facility all day long until he'd be back from work.

Although there were neighbours who would take turns babysitting (and gladly did as they adored Sam and Mary Lou), it wasn't a permanent solution and certainly didn't work out during his night shifts.

'Dad what's the point of working hard?' his son had asked once. 'You can pay for a nice home and lots of great stuff but neither you nor Mom are around to see us grow up being spoilt by all of that.'

_Such true words from a child, _Tom thought proudly. He had then agreed to be re-assigned to the GP's for his family's sake.

Now he worked regular office hours except if he was on the alert. In the mornings he'd be tired and make his way through the day with truckloads of coffee. In the evenings he would start to feel more alive and full of energy. He'd pick up the kids from the neighbours or one of his kid's friend's families and spend some quality time with them.

No matter how tough his day was, it cheered him up to see their bright eyes, grinning broadly when they saw him coming for them. Dropping them off at neighbours the first couple of times had been very hard especially for the little one.

'Daddy pleeeeease come for me prommmiees?'Mary Lou had squeaked.

His 3-year-old daughter had hugged herself to his neck vigorously and refused to let go. Just when he promised her a dozen times that he wouldn't forget her and surely pick her up by the end of the day, he managed to prise open her firm grip and put her down.

After playing (usually with the little one) and talking (usually with Sam as he was 'already 11 and too adult to play games anymore' as he claimed) they would have supper and see Mary Lou off to bed afterwards.

Mostly there were one or two hours left in which Sam got to choose what he wanted to do with his Daddy. Unfortunately most outside activities were not available during these hours but Sam didn't mind as long as he had his Dad all to himself.

'I know it is only temporarily.' Sam had started once when sadness had overwhelmed him because he wanted to spend much more time with his Dad.

'It _is _temporarily isn't it?' He pressed.

Tom nodded.

And with that he flung himself on top of his Dad's chest who dropped to the ground dramatically.

'Oooow! Doctor!' Tom howled in mock pain.

'I think you need to perform an emergency surgery!' He declared amusedly.

His son sat comfortably on his abdomen, holding both hands to his father's chest, feeling his heartbeat. Resting them there for a couple of seconds he put on a highly aggrieved look and sombrely declared

'I am afraid it is too late for that.'

For a moment both exchanged solemn looks, then burst into laughter. Once the excited giggling ceased, his son still sitting on top of him, Tom struggled to sit up cupping his son's cheeks with his hands.

Looking at him very closely, his expression grew earnest.

'This isn't easy for both of you. But I promise you that this _is _only temporarily. Once Mom is back from Italy she will be able to work at home again and you needn't go to Mr. and Mrs. Gregory anymore unless you want to.'

His son mustered him for a while, then smiled.

'You know, Dad, they are old but they are alright. It's fun to be around them.'

'People can get weird at times!' His father teased.

'Well,' Sam started, seizing up his dad with his gaze. 'I guess I got used to that by now.'

Playfully Tom squeezed his son's ears, still holding onto his cheeks.

'Now what's that supposed to mean Mister?'

He laughed and pulled him into a close hug. In return his son flung his arms around his dad and started giggling.

x x x

Later that evening, when his oldest had been coaxed into bed as well, Tom collapsed on the couch and turned on the stereo equipment.

He loved to indulge in some music when a hard working day had come to an end, enjoying a quiet moment all to himself. But today had been rough. He plugged in his headphones so he wouldn't ruin a night's success of getting both kids to sleep without too much fussing by waking them again by making such a racket now.

Throwing himself onto the couch, he closed his eyes, reliving the day's events.

There it was again – the troubling feeling he had stuffed back down into the depths of his stomach until it crawled its way up again only to make him feel awkward in a silent moment like now. He couldn't put a finger to it but somehow he hadn't managed to leave his work behind mentally and shut it out once he stepped into his house and closed his front door.

He didn't know why but he felt very uneasy.

Turning off the music he lay his headphones aside and decided to go for a walk outside in the fresh summer night's air. He took a baby phone with him just to make sure he'd hear the little one if anything was wrong and started strolling through the nearby streets.

He took a couple of turns here and crossed some junctions there and found himself unconsciously heading for his kid's favourite playground. Usually it wasn't cramped with lots of neighbourhood kids which would fight over their toys or with parents driving you insane with their tireless gossip.

He enjoyed sitting in the grass playing with his kids or resting on a nearby bench watching them, maybe reading a good book.

Then he heard it. A heart-wrenching sob followed by an awkward silence. Immediately his inner voiced piped up again.

'Something isn't right.' It bugged him. 'You've known, all day long!'

Coming to a halt he looked for the source of the sobbing and discovered the little creature on the swing crying desperately. A gasp escaped his mouth before he could clap his hand to it. Obviously he had given his silent observer's position away, for the little kid started to flee.

'You know that kid,' his inner voiced noted. 'Don't you.'

Tom hurried towards the playground. Then it happened.

The kid turned around and stumbled across its way too large pants which dropped half-way before being yanked up again. It fell to the ground but immediately scrambled to its feet again to keep running. This time there was no looking back.

_'Look at your clothes, drop more weight and this is what your pants might do as soon as you leave this seat.'_

Yes. He knew this kid.

x x x

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	3. Family Matters

**Chapter 3: Family Matters**

_**Disclaimer/AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this.

_**Warnings: **_Nothing specific.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 3 - Family Matters**

Tom had run down the road on either side of the playground but the boy had disappeared. As suddenly as he had been there he had been gone again.

Having searched in vain for another thirty minutes he decided to stop and walk back home, his mind engaged in serious thinking. When he reached his front door a distant church bell chimed 2 a.m. Adrenaline was still rushing through his body.

Going to sleep was not an option anymore. He put the baby phone back into the recharger and silently walked upstairs. On the left side were the bathroom and the master's bedroom, on the right side were his son's bedroom with colourful letters spelling his name and another empty room.

Originally it was designed to be a third children's room but somehow it hadn't come to that. Occasionally it was used as a guest's bedroom containing a comfortable couch but usually his wife used it as a home office when she wasn't travelling or working downstairs (which she mainly did leaving the room quite deserted). She enjoyed sitting in the garden with her drawing board, creating cornerstones for future buildings.

It wasn't sure how long she would be gone this time, but Tom really hoped that _temporarily _wasn't becoming the new standard. He missed her genuine laughter around the house.

At the end of the floor was his daughter's bedroom. Her door exhibited the same colourful spelling as his son's. As usual the door wasn't closed so the floor light (which wasn't turned off at night for specifically this reason) could shine into her room, lighting it up a little. Putting all those bothering thoughts aside for a moment, he tried to control his agitated state. Once his breathing had calmed down he moved towards his daughter's room and opened the door a little further to be able to squeeze into her room.

He knelt down next to her cot and gazed at the little girl sleeping, serenely sucking her thumb. Sitting down cross-legged he leaned against the bed taking a look around the room. He loved its decoration. Somehow the mere presence of his daughter, hearing her peaceful breathing, studying the pictures and paintings in her room, was tranquilizing him when he was troubled.

The room was coloured with a shade of forest green. Sam had refused to let his mother use any pink in it as it would _'inflict stereotypes on Mary Lou and probably scar her for life'_ as he declared, happily noticing that his father nearly sprayed his coffee across the room trying to keep from laughing out loud. He remembered telling Sam about the time when he had last used that phrase.

Fortunately his wife hadn't seen his reaction for he was sitting behind her. Tom had used that exact wording when she had insisted on colouring Sam's room blue when he was born. (In that case the objection was heard and overruled). She was quite picky when it came to those issues.

Yet Sam had stood his ground and this time the objection was sustained. Bounteously he had agreed to help with the further interior decoration, making sure his objection wasn't going to be beguiled at some point.

He had suggested painting some tree trunks onto the green walls, making it look like the room was surrounded by impenetrable forest. Supported by his mother's creative talent (which meant that she had to paint after her son's directions which he happily ordered from the middle of the room pointing here and there occasionally) the room soon had adapted a serene ambience.

Over the months little forest animals and plants had been added. Sam's favourite piece was the black panther guarding his little sister's cot.

Apart from the paintings which were part of the walls some self-made pictures were added randomly. It was really some adventure to mentally journey through this room. Tom had sat there for several minutes before the little runaway boy appeared in front of his inner eye again. The uneasy feeling had returned, making his stomach feel twisted and knotty.

With a sigh he got up, reached down into his daughter's crib to gently stroke her cheek and then left the room. Not wanting to wake his son (who had his bedroom door closed) he passed his room and walked down the stairs again. Still not tired he decided in favour of some more music. Maybe it would help him think. He turned on some quiet songs and sat back on his couch again. Rubbing his temples he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He had felt uneasy since he had come home from work. But that wasn't all of it. Somehow this beleaguering feeling hadn't been tangible up to now.

_Responsibility._

That was it!

_I should have noticed! _Tom thought, running both his hands through his hair holding on to it for a moment.

_I know all these signs. I am a bloody doctor for crying out loud! Why didn't I understand? _

x x x

The signs had been faint. He had FELT them but not recognized. When a child was straight out miserable or hurt there were clear signs to be seen. You would immediately figure out the problem and treat it so the symptoms could cease.

But in this case it had been the other way around. His unconsciousness had been bombarded with subtle signals but he hadn't seen the origin, to be honest he hadn't even seen the problem. He had just felt...unease.

Those signals had been covered-up by the outward appearance of the happy family life. On first sight everything had seemed normal. Two kids who were in for their due vaccination. Usually there would be lots of fussing, coaxing and parents being on their last legs, desperate to get back home. But there had been more to this family that he had seen the first time today.

The younger boy seemed so unnaturally aware of his surroundings as if trying to scan everything very guardedly. The flinching. The looks exchanged between the three of them.

It wasn't what was said (every 'dear' losing part of its meaning by the increasing quantity of it). It was rather what had been left unsaid.

One moment the little boy had been sitting on his chair, dangling his feet looking around rather normally. Seconds later his aunt had cast him an ominous glance causing him to instantly stop moving whatsoever looking very miserable. It was like a button had been pushed.

Obviously the woman thought he hadn't noticed the gesture for she resumed her put on smile and started talking to him again. What did this glance mean to the boy? Was there a threat implied by it?

_Why haven't I given it a second thought while they were still there? _Tom was berating himself.

_Now it's too late. Why didn't I THINK about it before?_

But what did you say in such a situation, when you were just having an awkward feeling and couldn't be sure what the story behind all this would be? When you were heaped with signals and signs you couldn't figure out but FELT to be wrong?

_What am I supposed to do now?_

Tom rested his hands on his closed eyes for a moment, sighing deeply.

_In the middle of the night? Call the police?_

Surely this would be a responsible approach, but what would the police actually do? Maybe they found the kid and returned him home. But would that actually help the boy?

Tom wasn't a person for stereotype-thinking. Yet he had to admit that there had been something about that woman's behaviour that he had disliked instantly. Something put on, _uneasy_.

Considering the attitude the boy's aunt had displayed, the policemen would probably be thanked heartily and once they were gone he would be in even more trouble.

Or maybe they wouldn't find him and appear at his relative's place informing them of his absence (and THEN he'd be in trouble upon his return).

Or maybe he had returned home by the time the police would appear and an up-till-then unnoticed disappearance would be unveiled.

_And what about the uncle?_

The woman had been weird but certainly she had been making an effort to present a nice family life. To make everything appear so _out of question._

Her son was clearly having none of that, seizing every opportunity which looked like there could be something in for him. Yet that boy was only ten.

Boys this age have role-models. Whatever they do they'll adapt. They don't have an attitude without a reason.

_Poor boy_, Tom thought.

Probably his father was his role-model. He wondered what kind of person he would.

Tom pondered. But looking at the boy, looking at the woman, her husband probably couldn't be any better than them.

_Great! No matter what I do I'll screw it up. _Tom thought bitterly.

_What a lousy situation._

Maybe he could try to approach the matter differently, more subtle. Although the boy had been a first time patient there must be a patient record or even an Electronic Health Record somewhere. He could do some research and figure out a little more details about this boy and his family. Surely the last thing he wanted to do was jump to hasty conclusions.

But what did he actually know?

x x x

'Don't worry Mrs. Dursley, we will be done in no time and then you can go back home!' Dr. C had told Petunia upon her frowned explanation that they would like to be back home in time for her husband to return from work.

Not to lose any time, he had prepared the vaccination and had picked the boy who looked more apprehensive and scared than the other one who was busying himself with the sweets he kept in his office.

_Might as well get it over with quickly_, Tom had told himself.

'It will be only a tiny prick in your arm. If you look the other way it won't be as bad, okay Harry?'

The boy had nodded and closed his eyes, not moving. As Tom had reached for his arm to pull up the sleeve of his shirt the kid had jerked away violently as if caught by surprise.

'Oh don't worry,' he had calmed the boy who was clearly embarrassed by his reaction and now held his arm towards him bravely without blinking.

'I should have told you my hands are really cold, sorry for that, mate!' He exclaimed amiabily.

It was a feeble attempt to loosen up the tense situation he had created. He gave Harry the shot and pulled his sleeve back down again, squeezing the arm of the boy trying to comfort him a little.

'See?' He smiled encouragingly. '

We are done already. You really have been very brave.'

For a second he had thought that there was a smile on the boy's lips when he had squeezed his arm lightly. He had even closed his eyes for a very brief moment. It had seemed to be a normal gesture to Tom. He did it all the time with his kids, they needed it.

Of course they did! Every kid craved for affection and love and warmth. But in retrospective Tom was feeling uneasy about it.

_As if he tried to make an effort to FEEL it. As if it was something special to him. Unique._ He thought.

Yet the next moment the boy had tensed all up again. But why? He had only praised him for he had wanted to see that smile on the boy's sad face again. What was it about the boy?

x x x

Fine the kid had been jerking and flinching. This could have been caused by the situation, maybe he really just surprised him. Also he hadn't seen any bruises or marks on the boy. This didn't exactly hint towards physical abuse. But on the other hand, there was all the looking and glancing.

His completely improper clothing. What about that? Maybe he was being neglected?

That wasn't exactly much he knew about this little boy. The uncertainty had been nagging him. But looking at the _FACTS _he had gathered, there wasn't really anything he knew for sure except that he felt a lot of sympathy for that little kid and that he could usually rely on his judgment when it came to people.

Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

But then he had seen him.

On the playground.

In the middle of the night.

Without shoes.

Crying.

x x x

_Why isn't Breanne here? _Tom thought regretfully. His wife was a great person to reason with when it came to these issues. Usually they would sit down on the couch, she'd rest her head in his lap and listen to his problems while he would play with the golden locks of her hair.

_Maybe I'll just make another appointment for him, _he pondered.

_Say I'll need to check the antibodies in his blood to see if the vaccination was having an effect. _

Although, the other boy would have to come too if he chose this approach. Everything else would look suspicious. No, that was stupid. In the worst case they would think he had experimented with unverified vaccine.

_Great I'll lose my job doing that, _Tom thought bitterly. He had to figure out something else.

Weariness was finally catching up with the distressed man as he had rubbed his eyes more and more often in the last minutes. All this reasoning was tiring him. That was not the way he liked to tackle problems. Reasoning with his wife was one thing. To hear a second opinion, discuss options. But he was just circling the problem here.

A feeling of frustration started to replace the nagging discomfort he had felt before. Casting his watch a quick glance he saw that there would only be a couple of hours left until he would have to get up again to drop the kid's off at the Gregory's. If it weren't for them he'd be jobless by now.

Reaching for a blanket and pillow usually close to the couch he set his alarm to the proper time and stretched out on his back, fingers interlaced behind his head. He'd figure out how to help that little boy first thing tomorrow morning.

x x x

Harry was tired. He hadn't been able to fall asleep in the shed where he had taken refuge for the night. Terribly shaken by the night's events he had run back home without stopping once.

Now and then he had taken a quick turn, when he saw some headlights in the distance coming his way. He wanted to avoid bumping into another person that night whatever the cost would be.

Once he even jumped into a roadside ditch when a speeding car had suddenly come out of nowhere, only one junction away from him. Luckily there hadn't been any water in the ditch.

Nevertheless, it took Harry some time to gather his courage and start running again once he had crawled back out of the ditch.

_Please let me arrive home safely, _he begged._ I will NEVER run away again. _

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to concentrate very hard, collecting every single piece of imagination he had left to lessen the fear which felt like it started to burn him from the inside. He strained himself to think of a very happy moment.

Eyes still closed Harry wrapped his arms around his body, stroking his shoulders softly.

_Then he remembered._

He gave his right arm a little squeeze and a rush of warmth shot through is body. It had felt so good. It hat felt so affectionate. So caring.

He tried to relive yesterday's happy moment again and again but somehow it wasn't working properly. Although the gesture stayed the same he couldn't feel the gentle warmth flow through his body anymore.

His forehead started to ache and involuntarily he squeezed his eyes together holding his head with his hands tightly. Unspoken words started to form on his lips.

_Please help me. Please do not leave me here. _

Pictures of the past day and night had flashed through his head again.

_Where the hell had that come from?_

Somehow the urge to cry out to somebody – _anybody_ – to help him had overwhelmed him. He knew there wouldn't be anyone. Yet he felt better as if he had been allowed to put his confusion and hurt away for a second. As if he just needed to heave his burden onto somebody else and never take it back.

_You are so stupid. No wonder no one wants you. Serves you right that you are so scared._

Tears had started running down his cheeks again. They left little lines on his cheeks which were covered with dust. Harry stroked the tears away only causing his face to look even dirtier.

Camouflaged like this it was probably impossible to see the little boy in the darkness. He had arrived back at number four, Privet Drive and quickly ran towards the house.

He didn't dare try the front door. Probably it was locked anyway, but Uncle Vernon had told him not to come back before morning. He really didn't want to be in any more trouble than he already was.

Scared and shivering he had circled the house and felt indescribably thankful to find the shed unlocked. The hinges creaked when he squeezed inside but nobody seemed to feel disturbed by this nocturnal noise. In a corner were some dusty blankets.

With a sigh Harry let his tired and sore body sink on to the pile and closed his eyes for a moment, cradling his arms to his chest rocking slightly forth and back. He stroked his bruised hand gently which had snapped earlier the day when he had been pushed off his bed violently.

_Lucky me there is no school tomorrow,_ Harry thought.

_I hope my hand will be alright before school starts again, so I can write all the stuff we need to._

x x x

Going to school while living with the Dursleys was difficult for three reasons. Because of Dudley, who was responsible that Harry didn't have any friends. Because of Aunt Petunia, who came up with quite creative excuses on each parent's day why Harry was even dumber than Dudley (although she worded it differently of course!). Every teacher thought he was outright stupid. And because of Uncle Vernon, who was responsibel for Harry having missed countless days in school.

Somehow Aunt Petunia was never running out of excuses why the poor boy was 'yet ill again and probably not back to health for another week' each time Harry was bruised and not 'publicly presentable'.

The teachers did their fair share looking the other way. They seemed contented with the excuses Aunt Petunia wrote each time, nobody noticing that Harry had suffered from chicken pox already three times during the last years.

Well it was still more than a month to go before he would have to worry about school (or rather not being able to go) again.

Squirming Harry tried different positions on the hard wooden floor and finally settled for one he considered to be least painful, lying on his side, knees drawn to his chest resting his head on one of the blankets, his body wrapped into the other ones.

Being able to rest the first time during that difficult night Harry felt his body relax and some of the pain return. His knees felt sore where he had hit the street.

_My pants are torn, _Harry thought saddened and swallowed hard.

A lump had formed in his throat making him feel very miserable. Everything he owned (which wasn't a lot anyway) somehow got lost, taken away or destroyed_. _

Surely, they weren't nice and way too big anyway, but yet they had been his and now they were stained and ripped beyond repair.

_Maybe he could patch them up somehow?_

Still lying he started picking at his knees trying to get some of the grit out of his skin. It hurt and the fact that it was really dark and Harry could only feel where his knees had been scraped up wasn't helping at all. He decided to leave it for the time being.

In the shack it was considerably warmer than outside. Also the blankets were – though dusty – quite comfortable. Well as comfortable as they could be. Feeling the warmth emanating from them Harry decided to take off his torn shirt which was cooling him down quite a bit because of its clamminess. Already Harry felt better and snuggled into the warm blankets once more closing his eyes.

This day had been terrible. It just turned out so _wrong._

x x x

Harry opened his eyes when he heard his bedroom door being opened. He had been sleeping lightly. Squinting against the sun he noticed that it must be close to sunset. And on second thought – his room wasn't barricaded anymore!

Curiosity rising, he sat up against the back of his bed, drawing his knees towards his chest hugging them with his arms, taking in his surroundings. Somehow everything looked _brighter_.

A couple of seconds passed, then a massive head was stuck inside his room. Uncle Vernon had obviously tried to check if Harry was sleeping and made an effort to be calm – well he could barely compete with a bull in a china shop but at least he had managed to open the door civilly.

Pushing the rest of his body inside Harry jumped up, not sure what Vernon was expecting him to do.

'Oh, no no boy! Don't get up.' He offered genorously, hands held up as if trying to appease him.

'It's alright. I just wanted to talk.'

He had just called him _BOY_.

And he wasn't screaming.

Harry thought carefully as he sat back on his bed, pulling up the covers a little guardedly. If this was some kind of weird new game, he wasn't going to take the bait.

'Boy, I came to apologize.'

_What? _

'Today has been rough on me. I had a hard day at work. They are firing lots of staff at the moment, you see? Everybody is tense and short tempered. Never sure who will be in next. It must have gotten to me more than I thought.'

_Err.._

'I am sorry I shouldn't have been angry with you. You didn't do anything wrong. Can you understand what I am saying?'

Sympathetically he looked at the boy as if he was the most pitiful thing he had ever seen.

'Sure Uncle Vernon.' Harry forced.

'I am just... No! It's great. Sorry about the hard working day.'

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say and tried to give his uncle a cheerful look. 'You will keep your job won't you?'

'Oh boy, of course I will!' Vernon beamed.

And with a broad grin he handed a tray to Harry which he had successfully hid behind his massive body up until now. Looking apologetically Vernon continued.

'Well boy you see. Since you didn't have any dinner. Thought you might be hungry?'

With that he pushed the tray on to Harry's lap, nodded and turned to leave the room.

'Thanks Uncle Vernon' Harry called after him.

_That had been nice. _

He had said that he was sorry. If he tried he could be really nice. He had even brought him food. That was nice.

'Oh how nice' Harry mumbled, a smile forming on his face.

x x x

The serene moment was suddenly interrupted, when something edgy poked Harry in the ribs. Jerking awake at once he saw his cousin holding a stick in his outstretched hand. Obviously he wanted to make sure Harry wasn't dead (or at least make sure of it).

'DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD' he squeaked.

'Why is Harry sleeping in our shack?' With that he turned around, still holding his stick, and ran away.

Closing his eyes once more Harry tried to capture the dream he had just had. It had been nice. Unrealistic. But fearless.

Pulling the blankets around his body again he wasn't sure if he should get up or wait what would happen next. He decided to settle for his second option.

_No matter what happens, don't screw it up! _He told himself vigorously.

Opening his eyes again he noticed that the sun was shining brightly. It must be coming close to noon for Dudley was already awake during his summer holidays.

_Had he really slept that long?_

Moments later Vernon appeared in the backyard, sticking his head into the shack. Only this time there wasn't a sympathetic smile. No effort to be calm, or nice.

_No tray with food, _Harry mused hungrily when his stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't been eating since lunch yesterday.

The thought would have been funny: the picture of his uncle proffering him food still fresh in his mind, if it weren't for the ready-to-kill look he was being given now.

'Bloody hell why are you sleeping in the shack, BOY?' He hollered.

'Uncle Vernon. I...'

Harry felt his stomach twist and knot painfully but defiantly held his uncle's gaze and continued.

_Don't screw this up._

'You told me I shouldn't return before this morning.' He started carefully.

'I thought if I stayed in the shack there wouldn't be any neighbours who might ask silly questions. You know?'

Expectantly he looked at his uncle who appeared to be caught by surprise.

'Mhh.' Vernon muttered in half-hearted surprise.

'Maybe you are not as stupid as you look. Grab your shirt, get back in the house and see that you don't ruin everything with this filth and mud everywhere. Shower and stay out of my sight! I have a lot to do today! No funny acting up, no balk talk, understood?'

'Yes Sir.' ... 'Uncle Vernon?'

'WHAT?' He snarled.

'I promise I'll do everything you want, please do not throw me out again. It was my entire fault and I shouldn't have been so difficult and such a freak. Please, do whatever you want to me but NEVER throw me out again...please!'

Tears were welling up in his eyes again as Harry pleaded heart-wrenchingly, not managing to hold them back.

Vernon gasped for breath. Leaning in very closely on Harry he breathed directely into his face.

'You are damn right you are a freak. Watch were this will get you. And now have a shower and stay out of my sight.'

With that he turned around and made his way to the house, not looking back once.

x x x

Tom hadn't slept well and now his weariness was catching up on him. Breakfast was a difficult affair. He was still very tired and certainly he was not in the mood to answer a lot of questions.

'Dad, what's going on?' Sam asked, his voice full of concern.

'Why were you sleeping on the couch?'

Although he could tell that his son was only being worried, Tom couldn't talk to him about that boy. At least not yet when he didn't even know himself what was going on.

'Listen Sam, I just had a rough night that's all okay?' He snapped, quite harsh, and regretted it instantly.

Disheartened, his son started picking his fruit loops, surprised by the unexpected rebuff. There weren't a lot of moments where his dad flat out refused to talk to him.

'Daaaaddy why are you angry with Sammy?'

This time Mary Lou piped up, her face twisted in a frown which seemed to express worry and confusion at the same time.

With a sigh, Tom noticed that he was being unfair. He stood up and walked towards Mary Lou who had been sitting in her children's chair, arms outstretched trying to reach for her father. Picking her up and snuggling her to his chest he tousled her blond locks, causing her to giggle heartily.

Seating her comfortably on his left hip, left arm securely wrapped around her, he walked around the table and sat down next to his son. When he refused to look up at him, still picking his fruit loops, he reached for his son's chin and gently lifted it up until their gazes met.

Clearly there was hurt to be seen in the blue eyes of the little boy. Even before he could say anything, Sam started. He rarely held back when it came to emotions.

'Daddy why aren't you talking to me? You ALWAYS do. What did I do?'

It was unusual for Sam to call him _Daddy_. Usually he'd say _Dad _or _Tom_. He really had to be hurt.

With another sigh Tom gently stroked his son's cheek.

'You haven't done anything wrong at all. I am sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn't have done that. And no – Mary Lou – I am not angry with Sam.' He added.

Looking at his daughter he tried to explain, still stroking his son's cheek with his right hand, making sure he was still having his attention.

'Daddy had a very tough day at work yesterday. You know how I told you that I have to help all the kids that come to me?' He inquired.

'Yes Daddy, you make them happy again don't you?' Mary Lou beamed.

'You see, Sweetie. Yesterday a boy came to me and I think he is very sick. But I don't know what is making him sick and unless I know, I will not be able to help him.'

Tom turned to face his son again whose expression had changed and was now considerably less sulky.

'He is nearly as old as you are. I really want to help him but I have to figure out how. I thought about it last night and got so tired, I fell asleep on the couch,' Tom finished.

'Sam, let me handle this for now. Promise me that you will take care of your sister and have a nice day at the Gregory's. Okay?'

Reluctantly Sam nodded, reached out for his dad's hand, held it close to his face and leaned against his father's chest.

Mary Lou was delighted to see her brother in reach and started tousling his hair as well, imitating her father's behaviour towards her (although it was rather a mix of patting his head and getting her hand entangled in his locks).

Sam laughed heartily and turned his head facing her.

'You might want to get unstuck before we go to the Gregory's? I am not carrying you around all day!' He cried in mock exasperation.

A broad grin spread on his face, causing his sister to giggle even more.

'Not all day but nooow pleaaaaaaaase! Come Tommy please!'

With that Mary Lou let go of her father and reached for Sam's shoulders, delighted to find herself being picked up again by her muttering, still grinning brother.

'Can you get her ready for the Gregory's?' Tom asked.

'I need to collect some stuff and then we really have to get going!'

'Alright, Dad. See you in a bit then.' With that Sam left.

Tom felt uplifted and the lingering depression which had been stuck to his mood since the last night had disappeared. Sometimes he didn't know what he had done to deserve such truly amazing children.

x x x

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	4. Lies And Deception

**Chapter 4: Lies And Deception**

_**Disclaimer/AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. I do this for fun and do not make any money with this.

_**Warnings: **_Lots of hurt and sadness, emotional issues.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 4 - Lies And Deception**

Still muttering Vernon had gone back into the house. _What had gotten into the kid? Great, now he'd be really late. And it was entirely the boy's fault. _

Usually he had to be in the office by 9 o'clock. Nothing was working out today. He hadn't been able to sleep properly for his wife had been nagging him about the boy.

'What if something happens to him? What if somebody sees him?'

'What if what if...' Vernon grumbled. If Petunia hadn't fallen asleep at last, he probably would have lost the better part of his hearing and the remainders of his sanity. 'It's always the boy causing trouble.' He thought angrily. He had been so tired that he had slept in. Petunia had forgotten to set her alarm and therefore slept in as well. She had jerked awake suddenly when her husband's hollering had broken the silence.

'Why the hell is it already 11 o'clock? Petunia WHY didn't you wake me for heaven's sake?'

Everything just went wrong. It had taken him ages to get off to sleep. Then, in the middle of the night, he had been woken by some creaking sound. By the time he had shuffled out of his bed and made his way to the window to rant at whoever possessed the audaciousness to make such a noise, everything was quiet again. It was dark and there was no one to be seen. Fantastic. Grumpily he had returned to his bed, trying to get some more sleep which was hard considering his annoyed state of mind.

And when he had finally woken up – the boy wasn't there! He would have expected him to come back home whining and begging to be let in again but he hadn't. Now he had to look for him! What next? _What if Petunia was right? If someone had seen the boy, maybe taken him with him? Possibly the boy had been telling swashbuckling stories to a stranger badmouthing them in every imaginable way. He'd better not! _

Just to make sure he had checked the boy's room upstairs. You never knew! Finding it deserted, the door still hanging loosely in its hinges, he heard the telephone ringing downstairs. Petunia already ran to answer it, so he continued his search being even further annoyed by the sight of the abused door as it was yet another thing that had to be fixed and would cost him money (the fact that he had broken it himself didn't matter to him. As usual _the boy made him do it_).

_Maybe he should give him pocket money to be able to take it away from him again to pay for the door. No. That wasn't working out as he still had to pay for it himself (although he liked the idea to make the boy feel miserable about it). The boy would just have to earn some money himself and then pay for it! He'd have to remember this thought but for now he had to find the boy in the first place. _

Vernon had circled the house to ensure that the he wasn't sitting in front of some window or backyard door when Dudley detected him in the shed proclaiming his discovery noisily before running off again. At first he thought he was going to strangle the boy but somehow he felt immensely relieved that he obviously had not left the property, meaning there wouldn't be any people asking funny questions whatsoever.

_You can always deal with this later... _Vernon thought. _Now isn't the time, you are late already! _He had made short shrift of the boy and walked back into the house to grab his stuff. Having missed one of his three favourite meals before noon (breakfast which was marginally outranked by brunch and pre-lunch snacks) he gulped down some donuts which lay on a serving dish in the kitchen while his wife, standing next to the telephone, looked terribly flushed.

'Darling that was your work! They have been wondering where you were. I told them the boy was sick and you had to take him to the doctor's. I said you were really sorry and would show up as soon as the matter here was handled. They understood you forgot to call. See all is well you won't have anyone bothering you because of this.'

Still clearly agitated she looked at her husband, feeling guilty for not having woken him in the first place as she usually did. Relieved that she wasn't bombarded with accusations she handed him another handful of donuts and his briefcase when the telephone rang a second time. Grabbing the food and his briefcase, Vernon hurried towards the door.

'Tell them it took a little longer and I will be there as soon as possible!' He shouted and pointedly shut the front door as the telephone kept ringing mercilessly. A little annoyed at the obvious impatience of her husband's employer Petunia snatched the receiver taking a deep breath.

'Listen I just told you my husband had to take our poor little nephew to the doctor's. He got sick unexpectedly and Vernon had to take care of him. He will be in as soon as possible!'

_Silence. _

'Uhm. Mrs. Dursley. This is Dr. Connor speaking. I just wanted to call upon a rather dispensable matter regarding your nephew's clinical record. But I take it that your husband is bringing him here this moment?'

_Silence._

Petunia was flabbergasted. What the hell was she supposed to say_ NOW? _Holding a hand to her mouth she felt heat rising in her body, her mind was racing. She was quite good making up excuses when it came to those matters. But firstly this was very sudden, and secondly, what was she supposed to say? Usually _'I call you back the boy is very sick'_ would do just fine but she doubted its effect on a doctor who'd probably be delighted to help. _How very convenient_. The image of the sloppily dressed, very _abnormal_ doctor, returned to her mind as her disgust for this person got in the way with her effort to put on a smile, convinced that she would sound much more polite and convincing this way.

'Mrs. Dursley?'

'Dr. Connor! How lovely of you to call! I must apologize, you surprised me. I didn't even have the chance to put down the receiver as I just had to calm my husband's employer you see? We had a rough morning so far.'

_Silence. _

_Great. This wasn't working out properly._

'Surely I will be able to help as soon as they arrive. I am afraid they are not here yet.'

'Uhm. No.' _Think!_

_Silence._

'You see. Harry suffered a nasty fall this morning. He was playing outside with Dudley. They took their bikes with them. Obviously they wanted to try out some tricks and of course they didn't tell me! I would never have allowed something so dangerous, believe me! Somehow Harry must have attempted something quite difficult and fell off his bike. We were so scared when Dudley brought him back home! Vernon thought it'd be better to take him to the hospital, just in case they needed to x-ray or something like that, you know?'

_Petunia, you are a genius! _

_Silence. _

'Oh I see. Hopefully Harry will be better soon. Do you need an appointment for him for a second check-up?'

'NO!... I mean. No, thank you very much! That really won't be necessary. I am sure everything will be taken care of in hospital but be assured if there is any need for a check-up any time soon I will call you immediately!'

'Well...I see. How is Dudley?'

'What?'

'Your son. He must be feeling quite shaken. He wasn't hurt?'

'Oh no, don't you worry about it. He said it gave him a real scare but he was alright. He felt terribly guilty for having let Harry attempt such a stunt. But you know boys will be boys. They are reckless and wild and impossible to tame this age.'

'I see.'

Petunia felt the better part of her poise returning. Obviously the doctor was falling for it and running out of funny questions to ask. She was truly unbeaten when it came to those things. Satisfied with her performance a genuine smile started to show on her face, all disgust and resentment forgotten. Colouring her voice in a tone of patronising amicability she added

'You must apologize but I have to take care of Dudley now. Feel free to call anytime, Mr. Connor.'

With that she hung up the receiver to nip any kind of further questioning in the bud. With a sigh she sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and closed her eyes for a moment.

x x x

Hot water was overflowing Harry's body. Although it was stinging his bruised knees it felt quite nice to wash off all the dirt and blood that seemed to stick to his entire body. He had put on the dirty torn shirt again before going inside for he knew that one thing Petunia hated even more than running around the house with filthy clothes was running around the house with no clothes at all. Although he was still wearing his (ripped) pants he didn't want to risk any further provocations.

Once Vernon had stomped off Harry had made his way back into the house and slipped upstairs while he heard Aunt Petunia agitatedly talking to him in the kitchen. _Do not make a mess and stay out of their sight..._ he kept telling himself as he tried not to leave any dirty footprints with his bare feet.

He had reached the bathroom undisturbed and locked the door from the inside. _Just to be on the safe side._ There was some more muttering coming from downstairs which soon ceased as Vernon left the house. _He must be working late today... _Harry thought but didn't give it a second thought. For now all he was interested in was a hot shower which wasn't limited to a couple of minutes due to the fact that Uncle Vernon wasn't around to make sure that he _'didn't waste any more hot water than necessary.'_

Dudley on the other hand got to use as much hot water as he liked – probably they were happy when he didn't have to be forced to shower at all. The first time Vernon had made that snappy comment Harry had felt very hurt and suggested he could take a bath in the electric water jug next time so they'd save money and needn't fear to suffer from starvation any time soon (_especially Uncle Vernon)_. Luckily his uncle hadn't put that suggestion into action although Harry had to endure half an hour of chiding and listen to insults how ungrateful and worthless he was until Vernon had managed to talk himself into a complete rage. Furiously he had smacked Harry upstairs and not let him out of his room until morning.

But this wasn't important now. Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating on the warmth relaxing his tense muscles. He tried to imagine that all of yesterday's events were stuck to him. Every tense moment, every slap, every hurtful comment, being kicked out, scared to death in the middle of the night by some stranger and finally returning home safely. All the dirt resembled pieces of this and he could just wash it off. _This felt so good! _Holding his breath for a few seconds Harry tried very hard to capture this moment.

Opening his eyes again he started rubbing vigorously here and there to get the dirt off his skin. The water soon adapted a very muddy colour only highlighted by little red trails when he tried to wash the dirt from his knees. He hissed when the stinging pain returned once more as he attempted to pick little pieces of grit out of his knees. They were already scabbed and started bleeding again so he decided to leave it this way for the time being.

Minutes passed which only felt like seconds. Harry had sat down and leaned his head against the wall, letting the water drum on his head, knees drawn up to his chest. _Why couldn't it be like this every day? _

Violent knocking let Harry's mind snap back to the present.

'Harry! What are you doing in there so long?'

'Uncle Vernon told me to take a shower, Aunt Petunia! I will be done in a second!'

'You have been in there for fifteen minutes for crying out loud! Finish and do your chores!'

'Yes Aunt Petunia!'

Harry reluctantly stood up again and made sure there wasn't any dirt left in the shower. Eying the freshly washed towels he decided to take one – after all he was thoroughly cleaned now. Carefully grabbing his clothes which were still very dirty he unlocked the bathroom door again and sneaked into his bedroom, deploringly looking at his broken door. _Maybe Uncle Vernon wasn't able to lock him in anymore now? The door didn't really look like it was in any state to be properly closed. Although.. _Harry thought_. Not being able to shut the door at all really wasn't such an advantage around here._

Getting into seconds of way too big pants and a shirt which actually fit his size (Dudley had grown out of it years ago) he wondered what he was going to do if these trousers were ripped as well for they were his last remaining pair.

Carefully folding the torn pants and shirt he decided to settle this before his uncle would return from work. He walked downstairs to find Petunia in the kitchen, enthusiastically scrubbing pans and pots which looked like they had never been used before.

Anxiously Harry walked towards her.

'Aunt Petunia?'

_Glare. _

'WHAT?'

'Uhm. Last night, these got torn...somehow. I am not sure if they can be patched up.' Petunia seemed to study him for several seconds making him feel very uneasy. Her expression was unreadable when he held the clothes towards her.

'I'd try if you showed me how, though' Harry added quickly, hoping to calm her with his offer.

Another moment passed during which he was dismissively eyed. Then Petunia snatched the clothing out of his hand and dumped it in the waste bin with a disgusted glare.

'You ruin everything you touch! Nothing is good enough for you is it? Those can't be patched, stupid child. Get out of my sight!'

With that she turned around and started scrubbing pans again, completely ignoring his pitiful presence which had been reduced to one of a sniffling little chap.

Not being able to voice his hurt he turned around and decided to head for the backyard where he had to mow the lawn and water all sorts of exclusive (but yet very damageable) plants Petunia kept to make sure her garden was looking nicer than her next door neighbour's.

_What if I ignored you too... _Harry thought, eying some gladiolas._ Stamp on you, make you feel miserable. I could just stand here and watch you wither. Or maybe drown you? What would you do about it? Everybody could see how pitiful you are. Then Aunt Petunia would know what it feels like to be derided. Not being able to take pride in anything for the only means you have to show what you are lie crushed at your feet. Just pick it up and dispose of it. It's worthless then. You don't need it anymore._

Tears were welling up in Harry's eyes. He seriously thought about committing violence against his aunt's status symbols but knew better than that. Chocking back his sobs he tried to stuff the hurt deep down, close it off from his heart so it wouldn't linger.

x x x

Tom was restless. He had been scanning Harry's clinical record which turned out to be a rather brief affair. The record seemed – nicely put – very incomplete and only contained his personal data and some information regarding checkups he had missed. A handwritten note which was probably attached by the last doctor the boy had been to read

'_Didn't show up for due check-up. Contacted family for further inquiry. No return call yet.'_

_That seemed to be a good pretence to call the family to get to talk to them at ALL... _Tom had thought. _He could ask some questions about his past state of health, inquire about allergies and further details which could be medically relevant to – as he would claim – complete the record to be able to treat him properly in the future. _Moments later he had been overrun with the mind-blowing story about the accident. He had to admit he was caught off guard and somehow this woman had presented this story without respite, leaving no chances to be doubted or questioned at all.

Not sure what to make out of this he had called a friend and former colleague at the central hospital and enquired about a 9-year-old boy named 'Potter' being admitted, possibly exhibiting multiple injuries from a suffered accident.

Although his colleague had checked several times to make sure, the result stayed the same.

'Sorry Tom, no one by the name of "Potter" has been admitted today. We had a car crash and a domestic accident but apart from that nothing which involved a kid.'

'What kind of domestic accident?'

'Playing girl who fell down a ladder her father had set up to repaint the house. She broke her leg.'

'Nah, that's not what I was looking for. Thanks anyway Jeff!'

'Not a problem Tom. Want me to call if your patient is admitted later on today?'

'Yeah that'd be nice. Although I begin to think that this was rather a misunderstanding and he will not be showing up anymore. Cheers mate.'

'You're welcome. Nice hearing from you though. Keep in touch will you? Haven't seen you and Breanne in a while.'

'Yeah why not. See you then.'

Tom had sat back in his chair and scratched his head again, holding on to the fang pierced into his ear. _He couldn't believe this! The woman had flat out lied to him! But why? _

_This feeling was sickening. OBVIOUSLY there was something wrong, yet there wasn't one tangible fact, not one thing he could be sure of or a way to pinpoint the problem. _

Time seemed to stand still. Tom could count off the days on which he had yearned for the end of his working day on one hand but today certainly was one of them. He felt that he was neglecting his work, his patients, not being able to concentrate properly. Feeling guilty about it didn't really help at all, yet he couldn't refrain from doing so. With every passing hour his mind wandered back to the boy who was so mysteriously kept away from everybody who could possibly care.

_What was he supposed to do?_

When his working day had finally come to an end he was regarded by his receptionist pitifully before she said goodbye and left him to lock up the surgery feeling very miserable and useless.

_He had planned to help the boy. Figure out something. Anything! Take action and get going with this matter. And what had he achieved? He had been cheated, lied to and ridiculed and yet nothing had changed for the boy. What a lousy situation! _

Outside it had started to rain lightly. _Great. Perfect resemblance of my mood... _Tom thought gloomily. He got into his car and turned on the radio. Hopefully his mood would lighten up once he picked up his kids. They didn't deserve to be left alone all day and then have to deal with their sulky and bad-tempered father.

x x x

'Daddy what's wrong with you?'

Sam had furrowed his brow and rested his chin in his folded hands on the kitchen table. They had eaten dinner and played with Mary Lou. His father had taken her to bed and spent some time with her singing her a lullaby playing along with his guitar. Sam had patiently waited at the kitchen table, listening to the music imbuing the house. Usually he liked to listen to his father playing or singing. He had even taught him to play the guitar and gifted Sam an own for his 8th birthday. But he had been so sad all day. Completely mentally absent all evening. Surely he had tried to make an effort but Sam could tell, listening to the sad and calm tune coming from upstairs. This was so very unlike his dad.

It had taken quite a while until his dad had come downstairs again and sat down at the kitchen table, looking very upset. He had waited for a couple of minutes, yet he hadn't said anything.

'Let's go and sit in the living room and then we talk.' He had finally suggested, outstretching an arm, waiting for his son who had looked up at him expectantly and now hurried towards him, hugging him heartily.

Once they were settled between several cushions on the couch and made themselves comfortable, Sam looked at his Dad who had seated himself opposite to him once more.

'You didn't manage to help the boy, did you?'

'No Sam. Sadly it is quite complicated.'

'How come?'

Tom contemplated for a while. He wasn't upset to tell his boy about a patient. When it came to rules Tom usually followed his instincts and did what he anticipated to be best ready to defend his actions if being questioned afterwards. He hated all the bureaucracy leaving people deedless by default and favoured taking matters into his own hands. But this wasn't about violating a rule. He was rather afraid to burden his son with emotional issues he might not be able to withstand. Yet it was a dilemma for if he didn't talk to Sam now he would feel equally crestfallen.

Usually when being trapped in such a situation, he did what he had always taught his kids to do – go for the truth.

'Sam. I know you can discuss things seriously and I am always grateful for your advice. But this is really a serious matter. This will trouble you.'

'Dad. I am troubled already. It makes me sad to see you like this!'

_Well, what had he expected? This was his son! Of course he wouldn't drop the issue or back off. And although he was still troubled he couldn't help but feel proud of his son. He took a deep breath and started his tale. _

'Yesterday at work I met this boy. He lives with his aunt and uncle and his cousin. Because he is orphaned (Tom had received a questioning look but Sam hadn't dared to interfere once his Dad had started talking finally). At least that's what his record says. Outwardly his aunt seemed to be nice and treat him well. But he somehow seemed sad.'

_Silence. _

'Have you ever had the feeling that something is not right but you weren't able to tell why, Sam?'

'Yes Dad.'

'That was such a moment. His behaviour somehow made me feel uneasy. But before I had a chance to talk to him alone his aunt left with both boys. Of course she did. What should I have said to explain that I needed to talk to the boy alone? I wasn't even sure if I was interpreting too much into all of that and didn't want to upset the boy any further, OR his aunt for that matter.'

Sam had tilted his head lightly and leaned against the backrest of the couch, chewing on his bottom lip, listening closely.

'You see all day I tried to figure it out but somehow nothing made sense. Once you two were asleep I was so troubled by it I went for a walk to your favourite playground. You know that little offside play yard in Devlin Street? (Sam nodded) I thought maybe some fresh air would help me think but then I saw that boy, sitting there. Can you believe this? He was out there in the middle of the bloody night! He wasn't even wearing shoes and had these way too big pants which would still fit you in a couple of years.'

The sudden gasp drew Tom's gaze to his son, up till now he had been staring into nothingness, concentrating on his account. Sam had clapped a hand to his opened mouth and looked very surprised, yet didn't dare interfere with his father's story.

'What is it Sam?'

His son was obviously thinking very hard about something, mouth still opened.

'Samuel. What is it?' he asked a little sterner.

'Dad. I think I might know that boy.'

This time it was Tom's turn to stare at his son in surprise.

'I was playing with Mary Lou in the sandbox. You were there too. Don't you remember? It can't be that long ago. Shortly before her birthday. Mom chucked us out to be able to do some birthday preparations. She didn't want to be disturbed so we left and spent the day there. We had already started playing for quite a while when he showed up. I think I saw him in school before. Different form though. He kept looking at us, actually I expected him to ask any moment to join in but he didn't. He was just sitting on the swing and kept watching. I thought 'better leave him alone he'll ask if he wants to be included' and well, he kind of ran off again soon afterwards. Don't you remember?'

Tom was thinking hard but actually he didn't remember. He knew they had been going there and he had taken a book with him. He must have been so immersed in it that he didn't notice.

As he shook his head, his son continued.

'I remember him because you are saying his pants were way too big. He is smaller than I am, I thought maybe eight? And his pants were... well really big. Thought they'd fall off any moment. Dark hair, wiry. Is that him?'

'Yes Sam,' his Dad nodded. 'I think that's him.'

He signalled his son that it was his turn to continue with the story.

'You know I always told you not to play outside without telling me, especially after dark for it can be dangerous. And there is that little guy in the middle of the night. He noticed me, although I think he didn't recognise me. It must have given him a terrible fright and he ran away. I went looking for him but he had just disappeared. I was undecided what could be the best to be done for him so I thought I'd talk to his aunt today. I called her from work.'

_Silence._

'What happened then Dad?'

'She flat out lied to me. And that's the problem here. She made up a story and shut me up with it. There wasn't really anything I could have said or asked at this point. That's why I am feeling so miserable, Sam. I am running out of ideas how to get through to that kid.'

With another deep sigh he closed his eyes and held his hands to his face for a moment, as if trying to pull his thoughts together, patch them up into something meaningful. He looked up when he felt some locks tickle the back of his hands. He noticed that Sam had snuggled close to him and now turned his head to look up at his father, causing him to break into a soft smile. Gently stroking some stray locks out of his son's face he saw his eyes lighten up considerably as if struck by a brainwave.

'Why don't we invite him over, Dad? Maybe I can play with him.'

'That's a nice idea, Sam.' Tom thought about giving this option a serious chance, but hesitated.

'I am just not sure if his aunt or uncle will allow it. After all we are complete strangers to him apart from the fact that he has been my first time patient. That isn't exactly a lot.'

Sam started chewing his lips again as he usually did when tackling a problem and then both fell silent.

x x x

Vernon was outraged. His whole day had been troublesome and seemingly incessant. Upon his arrival at work his boss had summoned him to his office, inquiring about his nephew's health, somehow expecting a rather detailed description of the morning events. Vernon was neither as good with made-up stories as Petunia was, nor did he know what she had actually been telling his boss. Trying hard to remember what she had said (_that he took the boy to the doctor's for he was sick_) he mumbled something about a sudden fever the boy had caught.

'In the middle of the summer?' His boss had questioned in a baffled way. 'What kind of fever is it? What did the doctor say?' Putting all his effort into keeping his face from adapting a hydrant's colour Vernon nodded his head pitifully and continued with his ordeal.

'OH. You know how these doctors are. Putting all those important-sounding terms to quite minor issues. It probably was half as bad as it sounded but of course we had to make sure. The POOR boy!'

He choked back a disgusted grunt having said this.

'Well, Dursley. WHAT was it then?' His boss had pressed.

_He couldn't think when someone was nagging him like that! His mind was racing (a neutral observer might have classified it slow-motion though) and stopped at the next best thing he stumbled across when recalling the past days._

'Some kind of allergic reaction.'

_Yes! That was good! He still had it. _Feeling affirmed he continued.

'See the boys were in for their due vaccinations yesterday. And somehow the little one must have physically responded to it overnight. He was treated for it and now everything's alright again, not to worry.' Vernon managed, quite pleased with himself.

Obviously this had been thought-provoking. His boss gave him an uneasy glance.

'An allergic reaction to a verified vaccine? How very unusual. And you are calling this a minor issue?' After all his boss didn't seem to take this as lightly as he had hoped.

'This is serious, Dursley! I have kids of my own, I think every father would be upset by this.' He continued.

'Make sure you get a detailed report from that doctor and keep me informed of what has actually happened, please. I am very eager to hear about it!'

With that he started working on some papers again which lay in front of him on his working desk, leaving Vernon Dursley in the middle of his office quite taken aback.

What was he going to do? Keep spinning a long yarn, risking exposure once the matter was becoming too complicated? Or tell his boss right away that he had lied straight to his face without even blinking?

The boy was driving him insane._ It'd be his fault if he lost his job eventually! _Since the day he was dumped at their doorstep he had had nothing but trouble with him. Funny questions had started and never ceased henceforth.

'What's the matter Dursley?' His boss looked up again, obviously intrigued by the fact that he was still standing in the middle of his office, daydreaming (and – even worse – therefore not working).

'Oh it's nothing, I will get to work immediately!' With that he turned around to leave the office.

'And Dursley...' he added patronisingly.

'Yes?'

'You have my full sympathy for being late this morning. Hopefully your boy makes a full recovery. But make sure you complete your morning's work with the rest of your daily share before leaving! I would hate to see your division trail behind.'

'Yes, Sir.'

Vernon struggled holding back his anger and frustration and kept lashing out all day towards subordinates. His colleagues sympathetically regarded him when stomping through the corridors of their company building and tried to avoid him considering themselves fortunate that their kids were healthy (of course word got around).

He had trouble concentrating and aside from the daily contingent he had to complete, the morning's work share was setting him back even furthermore. Three hours late he arrived back home, seething.

x x x

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	5. Disjointing Realities

**Chapter 5: Disjointing Realities**

_**Disclaimer/AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. I do not make any money with this. No copyright infringements intended.

_**Warnings: **_Physical abuse and heavy emotional issues as well as a lot of OOCness, so don't complain about it, you have been warned.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 5 - Disjointing Realities**

'Honey how was your day? What's the matter?' Petunia asked hesitantly.

She clearly felt uncomfortable seeing her husband in such a worked up state. Dudley was out at some friend's place and wouldn't return until tomorrow evening which she felt very grateful for now. Harry had been busy all day doing chores and been kept in reach so he could fix Vernon some supper once he finally returned from work. She herself had been pacing up and down the living room, upset by her husband's delay. It was extremely rare that he did long hours. By the time he had arrived, she nearly wished he hadn't.

Completely ignoring his wife's concern he came to a halt in the middle of the living room.

'BOY GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!' He hollered.

'Vernon talk to me, what happened at work? Did anybody bother you for being late? TALK to me!' Petunia started to grow desperate.

Her husband's face had adapted a nasty shade of crimson and he was barely able to suck in his breath as he continued to scream for the boy.

Harry had been in his room but not allowed to sleep for he surely should fix some more supper once his uncle returned. With the door not being properly closable anymore he couldn't even say that he hadn't heard any calling (although it probably didn't make that much of a difference regarding the volume his uncle was attaining right now).

_This didn't sound good. _

Scared Harry made his way downstairs, not sure what misdeed he had committed now. Once he entered the living room he saw his aunt trying to pacify his uncle but seemingly it didn't have an effect on him, rather opposite.

As soon as he caught sight of the boy he pushed Petunia aside (she gasped in shock and clapped a hand to her mouth at this) and grabbed Harry by his hair, pulling him close to his meaty face.

'Please Uncle Vernon!' Harry pleaded. 'What did I do?'

Looking Harry directly in the eyes Vernon made a disgusted grunt and took a deep breath before backhanding him. If it hadn't been for his other hand holding onto the boy's hair surely the blow would have knocked him off his feet. Tears were welling up in his eyes instantly.

'Please Uncle Vernon what is it?' He asked again.

_This audaciousness. This pure insolence. _

With another blow he let go of Harry and watched him crawl backwards until he bumped into Petunia who was now approaching her husband with her hands held high as to appease him.

'Vernon TALK TO ME! What has happened?' Petunia urged.

_Why was she nagging him now? WHY? He couldn't stand any more stupid questions! _

'THANKS to that freak over there (he pointed at Harry who had curled up behind his aunt) I am about to lose my job! I can't sleep! I am late for work! And have to make up silly excuses which are being questioned by my boss now because YOU told him I had to bring THE BOY to the bloody doctor's!'

Jabbing every fifth or sixth word into Petunia's collarbone he was clearly losing it now.

'Vernon please' Petunia looked like she was going to cry any moment. 'Calm yourself so we can talk about it. We will figure it out!'

'NO!' Vernon was outraged.

He had done enough talking today and obviously it hadn't gotten him anywhere. With that he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the living room, completely ignoring her shocked protest.

Traumatized by this harsh treatment, Petunia felt too taken aback to think of another approach how she could possibly calm her husband. He was often angry and he surely could work himself into a rage. But this was bad. Stunned she held on to the doorframe she had been pushed into, rubbing her shoulder with the other hand and with eyes wide-opened she watched her husband whirl around once more approaching Harry, his index finger pointed directly at his face.

'YOU are making all our lives miserable.' Vernon hollered.

'Since the day you came to us you have been useless, ungrateful and utterly worthless! LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!'

Fearfully Harry glanced up to his uncle, firmly clutching his arms around his body, rocking back and forth trying to calm himself, some tears clinging themselves to his eyelashes, refusing to be shed yet.

'Name _ONE _reason why I shouldn't throw you out right now!' He whispered in a very strained sort of way.

Harry was trying to think hard but his mind felt as if it were some sticky impenetrable mass in which several thoughts were forming but never able to reach his mouth let alone come out.

_The neighbours will know._

_You already did and it just made everything worse. _

_I will tell. _

Harry sobbed, images of the past night flashing through his mind. _Oh how he wished to be someplace else. Away from here. Away from his uncle. Somewhere he wouldn't need to be scared. Yet what he ironically feared most was being chucked out again. This was so confusing! He hated himself for being so stupid. The ambivalence of these feelings felt like it would crush him any moment. _

'Do whatever you want but please, please do not throw me out again!'

Vernon gaped at Harry for a second and then faced his wife.

'Did you hear that? He's asking for it! The boy is BLOODY asking for it!' He raged.

With that he unbuckled his belt and folded it halfway, holding it with his right hand. With the other hand he grabbed Harry by his left forearm with which he had tried to cover his head and flung him across the couch.

'I'll teach you to dare smart mouth me!'Angrily he kept lashing out at the boy who was grabbing on to the couch, whimpering but not daring to say another word.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to press his face into the cushion afraid to make a sound. As blows kept coming he held his breath, at a loss of ideas what to do. He felt so utterly helpless, at the mercy of precisely that human being who was supposed to protect him!

x x x

'_This isn't real' Harry kept telling himself as he started to withdraw his mind from the scene and shut his eyes tightly. 'This isn't happening.' _

_Closing off his heart from the cruel reality, Harry found himself in a realm of his mind which had nothing to offer but comfort and solace. Here was no place for hurt or condescension. Here he felt at ease. Where was this place? He had never been here before._

_Intrigued by the happiness Harry felt, he dared to take a look around. There were solid walls surrounding him. No corners, no edges, just walls seamlessly encircling him. Yet he didn't feel trapped. It was rather reverse, everybody else who was unwanted seemed to be shut out. An unfamiliar though not unpleasant feeling built up in his stomach and spread through his body. It emanated warmth and some kind of safeness. Here he was in charge. Here nothing happened he did not want to happen!_

_Tentatively Harry took a few steps into one direction. The walls seemed to respond to his movement, smoothly shifting with every pace. Turning around he moved into the other direction – and again was presented with the same result. _

_Everything here was exactly the way he needed it to be. But did it have to look so dull? Pivoting once more Harry caught sight of some trees which had appeared behind him. Surely they hadn't been there a couple of moments ago! Walking closer towards them he could hear some birds chipper serenely. Taking another look around he found that his protective barrier hadn't failed him and closed up right behind him, still radiating that pleasant warmth. _

_Outstretching his hand towards it Harry found it to be of unidentifiable texture. It was shimmering silvery, almost transparent and it felt like warm water, but yet more solid. Feeling assured Harry faced the trees again. More and more plants appeared he had never seen before. They were entangled with the trees, forming pretty shapes. Red mist was lingering and drew his attention, it looked like a unique sunset, impossible to describe. He had never seen such a beautiful scene before! _

_For a moment he even thought that he heard children's laughter and felt decoyed by it. Drawing nearer to the trees Harry made out a playground. It looked familiar though it was bigger and harboured some diverse play equipment. Kids were playing happily and looked at him as he had reached the trees. _

_Cautiously Harry paused to see if the children would run away or ignore him. But they just kept looking until a little girl waved him nearer, obviously she tried to include him into their game. _

_His heart leapt. They wanted to include him. HIM! He held his breath once more and took a step towards that girl, but suddenly felt himself failing to budge! The lingering mist became thicker and impassable. Harry felt like he was losing control, as if he was being removed from the scene. He outstretched his hands once more as if trying to hold on to the situation but he wasn't in charge anymore. He felt a violent shake tear him away from his sanctuary. _

x x x

Usually Vernon's frustration would demount slowly when he had a chance to work off his anger but this time it didn't work.

_The boy didn't even care! _Vernon was upset._ 'Do whatever you want' he had said! _He had been lying there not moving at all, just ignoring his punishment!

Growing even angrier upon this assessment Vernon threw his belt aside and grabbed the boy by the shoulder, pulling him to his feet again violently. For a moment he thought that he had seen a smile on the boy's face but the next moment the smile had vanished (_had his mind been playing a trick on him?_) and the boy had opened his eyes and resumed a very fearful look.

'WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?' Vernon screamed. 'You don't even care, do you?'

Harry was at a loss of words. _Had this just happened to him? He had felt so confused and scared and suddenly all those fearful emotions had been driven away. He had shut them out! Separated all the hurt from his heart. At least until Uncle Vernon had jerked him out of this serene state of mind that was. He felt too overwhelmed to put any words to his feelings. Sadly it hadn't lasted longer. But he had done it! It had been...nice._

'Please Uncle Vernon. What do you want me to do?' Still confused Harry didn't know what was expected of him, as usual.

'Answer me! Don't you care about us? Do you like to make us feel miserable? Do you think you are the only one here being such a victim?'

Taking heart in the fact that Vernon wasn't screaming as badly anymore Harry tried to reason with his uncle.

'Please. I never meant to make your life any harder than it already is. You must believe me! And I am sorry you were burdened with such a thing...with me.'

_Silence._

'Please tell me what you are expecting of me. I never know what I am supposed to do to make it right! Somehow everything I do turns out wrong.'

_Silence. _

Finally Vernon seemed to have no anger left, running out of accusations or any possible threats he could think of. He felt unable to cope. He had been determined to smack some sense into that boy. Make him understand that he was not to be questioned. Not to be debated with. Yet the kid was trying to reason with him!_ Why was everybody nagging him like that? _

'Just be less freaky.'

He nearly whispered as he held one hand to his sweaty forehead and turned around. Grabbing his car keys which lay on a tray next to the coffee table he glanced at Petunia.

'Don't wait for me. I need a break.'

With that he left her standing in the doorframe dumbfounded and headed outside, planning to get royally drunk before he returned to be able to forget this lousy day!

Petunia leaned her head against the doorframe as she watched the little boy slump down wretchedly on the carpet. One moment he had been alarmingly stoic and reasonable, the next moment he was looking like a picture of misery, shedding crocodile tears. He looked up at her and suddenly the distant gaze his eyes had harboured a moment ago was gone. There he was again. The little 9 year old boy she resented so much.

'Aunt Petunia. Why am I so freaky?'

She tried to collect some of that hatred she had always been able to find somewhere within when telling herself to ignore the boy whose mere presence made her feel less important, outshone. But she couldn't bring herself to it this time.

x x x

'_Petunia. What's happening to me?' Lily had asked, sobbing heart-wrenchingly. _

_They had played together in the backyard serenely tossing a plaything back and forth. When Lily missed the catch and the ball impended to hit her on the head, flashes of light came out of nothingness and blasted the ball into several pieces. Both girls had been terribly frightened but upon questioning her sister 'how did you do that?' she had just collapsed unable to keep from crying. _

_Lily didn't know what had happened, but it had happened before. And now it had happened again._

'_Petunia, make it stop' she had wept. Petunia didn't know what to do. Although she was intrigued by the obvious special talent her sister displayed she was feeling sorry for her since she desperately wanted it to stop. Lily wasn't putting herself on display with it. She wasn't asking for special treatment, she just wanted it to stop scaring her. _

'_Please, Petunia.' Lily choked back a sob. 'Why am I so freaky?' _

x x x

Taking a deep breath Petunia tried to shake that memory off her mind and walked towards Harry who was still crying his heart out. She felt guilty for not having intervened earlier on when her husband had clearly lost his mind pitilessly pounding the boy, yet she had somehow felt scared of him. _That was new_. He was never nice to the boy but he surely hadn't laid hand on her before.

_Maybe he is really losing his mind now..._ Petunia thought, gently stroking her shoulder where Vernon had grabbed her and pushed her aside quite harshly. For once she wasn't bothered that he had left again. _Hopefully he'd have returned to a normal state once he came back home, whenever that would be._

Looking down at the boy who had drawn his knees up to his chest and started rocking back and forth again she stretched her hand out towards him as if to brush a stray lock out of his face but withdrew it shortly before she actually touched him. Surprised by this movement she held her hand close to her chest, trying to regain some of her self-assuredness.

'Look what you made Vernon do.'

The boy just continued sobbing but didn't look up_. Why was he looking so pitiful, so...like Lily... so impossible to hate like this. _

'Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep. It is really late.'

x x x

Morning came and Vernon hadn't returned yet. Petunia wasn't sure if she was to feel relieved that at least he hadn't come home in the middle of the night and resumed the evening issue. But after all it was Friday and he had one and a half working days left before the weekend would start for him. She didn't dare call his work again. What if she told his boss another story which then wouldn't comply with her husband's in case he had made some own arrangements or – maybe – even shown up at work?

_Luckily Dudley was still at his friend's and the boy...well actually she hadn't seen him yet. Surely he was alright, wasn't he? _

Deciding to ensure – just in case – Petunia walked upstairs and tentatively pushed Harry's bedroom door open which looked like it might fall down any second. Taking a look around the room she only saw the deserted bed but couldn't make out Harry. '_Damn those boards in front of his window' _she thought. Shifting uneasily from one foot to the other she tried to accustom her eyes to the darkness, yet she had this beleaguering feeling that she didn't want to step any further into the room. Somehow it felt like an invisible barrier had been erected, coldness was emanating from the room.

'Boy?'

Nothing moved.

'Harry?'

When again nothing happened and Petunia had already turned around, wondering where she was supposed to look for the boy now, she heard a scarcely audible creak coming from somewhere behind the bed, followed by a shuffling noise.

Turning around once more she made out her nephew who had crawled up on his bed behind which he had obviously been crouching as if trying to hide, carefully eying her.

'Aunt Petunia?'

'What is it...Harry?'

Somehow the coldness seemed to decrease a little.

'Is he gone?'

_Sigh. _

'Yes.'

'What happened last night? What did I do?'

Actually Petunia wasn't sure herself. Usually she would have responded that his mere presence would be sufficient reason, but remembering her husband's harsh treatment which had given her quite a fright, those emotions got in the way with her otherwise cold attitude.

'Nothing.' She answered.

_She definitely wasn't going to pour her heart out to that boy, yet she felt compelled to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away her husband had left her with, feeling so helpless, so out of charge. _

'Maybe it would be a good idea if you got some fresh air.' Petunia decided suddenly.

'Freshen up and then maybe go to the playground and come back tonight once...once I got the chance to sort out some things and I...you wouldn't want to get in the way. Right?'

'Okay Aunt Petunia.' Harry answered carefully.

Head held low he shuffled out of the bedroom and made his way to the bathroom. _Why was she so nice to him all of a sudden? Maybe Vernon had scared her as well. He had never seen his uncle like that! He couldn't help but feel sorry for his aunt. He himself was used to being treated unfairly and it wasn't such a shock for him that his uncle was mean to him, though it hurt his feelings a lot, leaving his heart aching badly. But as for his aunt, yesterday must have been a complete new experience. 'See that's what it feels like' Harry thought but regretted his unkindness immediately. No. He really didn't wish this to anybody._

Taking a look at himself in the mirror he ran his fingers along the outlines of a bruise which was showing on his left cheekbone. It blended into the other bruise he had already acquired the day before when back-talking his uncle.

'Aunt Petunia?' The fear in his voice was nearly tangible.

Petunia had still been standing in his bedroom's doorframe and now stuck her head insight the bathroom.

'WHAT...is it...boy?' She forced.

Uncovering the bruise, he hesitantly tilted her head towards her, obviously feeling ashamed to be putting himself on display in this manner.

'If you let me go out. Won't people ask...funny questions?' Harry inquired, trying to make this sound less ridiculous than it seemed to be.

With a sigh Petunia figured that the boy was right. Inwardly cursing her husband's rage she shoved the boy towards the toilet.

'Sit down.' She ordered.

Taken by surprise Harry did as he was told and watch his aunt closely. She took a tin from her bathroom shelf and grabbed something which looked like a little sponge, then she came back, halting in front of him.

When she reached out for Harry's chin he flinched, causing her to sigh yet again.

'Let me handle this, okay?' She declared tetchily although her facial expression gave away her genuine aspiration. _She wasn't doing this for the boy, _Petunia kept telling herself_. She was only doing this because – as he had rightly figured – others would start ask funny questions seeing him like this. _

Grabbing his chin with her right hand, she lifted his head up and with the other hand brushed make-up onto his cheek until the bruise seemed to be satisfyingly covered up. Tilting his head towards the light Petunia regarded her work, amending a little here and there. When she finally seemed contented she looked at Harry whose eyes were glittering with tears.

_What was it NOW? _

'There you go. Good as new.' Petunnia decided.

With that she turned around and left the boy who was still sitting on the toilet lid, gently touching his cheek with his fingers again.

_He was such a cry baby! He had wanted to thank Petunia. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Those emotions where overwhelming him. She had not only helped him (though Harry thought it might be for her own good too), but she had touched him. Touched him! Without looking disgusted or turning the other way or running off to wash her hands a moment later as if she caught a disease. _

Closing his eyes he tried to regain some poise, unwilling to shed his tears and risk to ruin his Aunt's work. After a few moments he walked downstairs to find Petunia in the kitchen, cleaning. Hesitantly he knocked against the doorframe, drawing her attention. _He just wanted to make sure. Make it right this time. _

'I am going to the playground, okay?'

_Nod._

'When do you expect me to be back?'

'After supper. I will fix it myself.' (She had received a questioning look). 'I'll save some for you.' _(WHY had she said this now?)_

Harry nodded and decided not to question this person any further who impersonated his Aunt Petunia. Turning around, he left for the playground in Devlin Street.

x x x

Albus was sitting in his headmaster's office, an unfolded letter resting in front of him. His head was resting in his hands, elbows leaned onto his table. Inquiries and well meant suggestions had long ceased which had been offered by the portrait's inhabitants surrounding him. _This wasn't good. _

Opening his eyes again he let out a sigh, seeing that the letter was still lying there, serenely, unchanged. _He hadn't imagined. His old mind hadn't started to play tricks on him now. This was happening_. Of course he had expected problems to arise at some stage, but this was too early!

Absentmindedly twitching his long beard he re-read the letter. He felt reminded of that moment when the little girl named Petunia had written to him for the first time, fervently begging to be admitted to Hogwarts too. With an aching heart he had denied the girl's desire, trying to assure her that she didn't need magical abilities to show her uniqueness as she surely was a wonderful and special little girl.

Hurt had clouded her heart and she had refused to speak to him since, until that night in which Harry's life took a drastic turn, forcing him to be placed in his relative's care.

'_I know this is difficult for you Petunia' _he had assured the woman who resembled nothing of the little girl he was reminded of, except for the genuine hurt which still lingered in her heart so strongly, he could feel it radiating even through her tough put on facade.

'_No matter what happens. You need to take care of him. I realise that this will not be easy but it is utmost important that you give him a shelter. He will call this house his home and you will provide it for him.'_

Seeing that the woman was clearly about to refuse he tried a different approach.

'_Petunia. Do not make a mistake and blame him for things he cannot control. He didn't ask for this. Lily didn't ask for this.'_

At this Petunia had choked back a sob, clearly angry to give her emotions away in front of that man she resented so much.

'_None of that!' _She had hissed._ 'I will do what you ask of me, but don't you think I am doing it for you – or the boy – OR my sister for that matter!'_

'_I see.' _Albus had mused sadly, yet there was no blame, no accusations accompanying his look, his voice. Stretching out his hand towards Petunia she backed away several steps, causing him to slowly withdraw his hand again.

'_My dear child,' _he barely whispered._ 'I hope you will be able to forgive me for doing this to you one day. You didn't ask for this and there is nothing I can do to ease your pain, make the hurt go away. Be assured, you are – too – very special, Petunia.'_

With that he had turned around and left her standing in front of her house, a mess of emotions, anger and frustration marginally being outranked by hurt and confusion._ How did he do this?' _She had thought. You could insult him or try to make him angry and yet he would display nothing but pure kindness towards whoever was in need of it (or not for that matter).

Maybe it hadn't been the best solution – for all parties involved – but it had been the only one. Once more the forced himself to focus his eyes on the words that had been blurred by his trail of thought.

x x x

'_Dumbledore. _

_Be assured I am not happy to write to you – again. Yet this time you will not be able to overrun my objections so easily. Harry cannot stay here. I know what you said and you know what my response has been. But times have changed._

_You placed him in our care without asking, regardless of our position. Nothing mattered to you but your own selfish desire to handle a matter quickly. If you are still interested in Harry's safety, I recommend you take him away from here as soon as possible._

_Petunia.'_

x x x

Dismissively flicking the letter aside Albus closed his eyes again. Countless times he had read this letter, read between the lines. But apart from the hurt that obviously was still set firmly in this woman's heart and therefore easy to detect even when only reading her short letter – apart from that – it was neutral, imprecise.

_What was going on? What had happened? _

The uncertainty was making Albus feel uneasy. _Was Petunia overreacting? On the other hand, he hadn't heard from her in all these years – why now? _

_It was impossible to take Harry out of their care! He needed not only the protection of his relatives but the assurance of a normal life – he wanted to keep him far away from all of the magical world until it was time for him to join in. He would have a life full of this and surely it wouldn't be easy for him. He never asked for it and had no choice. It seemed only fair to grant him his remaining years out of Hogwarts before confronting him with the world full of expectations and dangers he was destined to endure. _

Deciding that he had to respond to this letter somehow he made preparations to leave for Little Whinging.

x x x

Harry had reached Devlin Street and headed for his favourite playground. Yet it felt different. Usually he had needed to come here secretly, sneaking like a thief, fearing to be punished if he was caught (which was rather a matter of 'when' and not 'if').

But now the sun was relaxing him. Closing his eyes for a few seconds he just stood there, trying to feel the warmth of it flow through his body. Excited giggling drew his attention. Walking towards the playground he saw a little girl playing in the sandbox. Upon seeing him she broke into a broad smile and waved at him.

_This wasn't real, was it?_

Guardedly looking around Harry halted for a few seconds, waiting to be pulled out of his dream violently, but nothing happened. When he still didn't move the girl's beckoning was accompanied by a deeper voice coming from somewhere behind the bushes shielding the playground from view.

'Hey there! Wanna come and join in?' A boy's voice rang happily.

Still askance Harry made a few tentative steps towards the little girl to gain a better sight of the scene. Next to her sat a boy, considerably older than her. He had taken off his shoes and was drawing little symbols into the sand with his toes.

Harry took another look around as to make sure that it was actually he being talked to. This caused the boy to laugh cheerfully.

'Yeah I am talking to you! How about it? Join in?' He repeated.

Deciding that this wasn't a dream _(and if it were, why not play along?)_ Harry moved up to the sandbox. Scanning the surroundings he discovered an elderly couple sitting on a park bench close by. A picnic basket was standing at their feet which seemed to have been abandoned in favour of a captivating discussion between the two of them.

'Name's Samuel. But my friends call me Sam for short.' The boy grinned, outstretching his hand towards Harry.

Taking it, he shook it.

'Name's Harry.'_ But you can call me freak. _

'Cool, nice to meet you Harry. This is Mary Lou.' Nudging the little girl with his foot she squeaked jovially and waved once more at the boy.

'Hi Harry. See what I made!' She cried out in delight.

Proudly she presented her mornings work – a sandcastle which looked like it had suffered from several severe earthquakes already – and looked up at him expectantly.

'Err...wow. It's nice! Did you make it all by yourself?' Harry couldn't help but smile.

Exchanging grins with the other boy he watched the little girl nod vigorously, feeling intrigued by her utter genuine happiness.

_This was cool. They weren't asking stupid questions (obviously his cover-up was great!) and they weren't bothered by him. Not afraid of him! They were just enjoying the day and he was allowed to be part of it. _

Taking off his shoes and socks as well, Harry imitated the other boy and dug his feet into the warm sand, watching the little girl play.

Moments passed and obviously the two kids were just content playing next to him, enjoying the sun. Deciding to dare a cautious approach he cleared his throat uneasily, causing the boy to look at him.

'Err. Are you often here?' Harry tentatively asked.

'Yeah actually we are. This is our favourite playground. Mary Lou loves it here! And well, I don't mind babysitting her. And them.' With a giggle he nodded towards the elderly couple, amused by the confusion dawning on Harry's face.

'Mr. and Mrs. Gregory. Dad drops us off at their place when he has to work. Usually our Mom is at home getting her work done from there but she's travelling at the moment, see? It gets boring staying at their place all the time so we come here. Well and I think they are enjoying the fresh air too.'

'Do you live close by?' Harry was starting to get interested in those kids.

'Yeah, well, THEY live close by. It's a couple of streets from here to their place and maybe twice the distance to our house. But I reckon you'd still call it close by. How about you?'

'Err.' Harry wasn't sure how much he should tell that boy. Surely he seemed nice but he didn't want to get in trouble – for whatever reason. Yet he couldn't figure what harm would be done telling him about his home, as long as he made sure not to talk bad about it or the Dursleys for that matter.

'Privet Drive.' He revealed.

'That's quite a way coming down here. Don't you have playgrounds around at your place?'

'Well. Sure. But...they aren't as nice. I reckon.'Taking a look around at the rather scantily equipped play yard he started to feel stupid, but was interrupted by Sam.

'I know what you mean. Usually they are cramped with kids fighting stupid fights over their toys and parents making sure that everybody learnt why their kid is so much better than the next door neighbour's. That's why we like it here. It's peaceful and we aren't bothered.'

Time flew by and by the time the elderly couple had gotten up from the bench, the three kids were engaged in an eager fight between the kings (well two kings and one queen of course) of the three sand castles of Devlin Hill, showplace of a battle never seen before.

Calling the kids to settle for supper the ongoing fight was decided abruptly when the queen's secret allied giant (namely Mary Lou's foot) stomped her archenemies' castles. The boys accredited her victory ungrudgingly.

'Sam, Mary Lou, aren't you hungry yet? It has become quite late. And who's your little friend here?'

When they were looking at Harry he felt immediately uneasy, not sure what was expected of him.

'That's Harry.' Mary Lou piped up. 'He is our new friend!' With that she merrily flung her arms around him, beaming. Taken aback he tried to turn the hissing that had escaped his lips into a sound of surprise rather than pain. The cuts on his back were sore but it had been alright until now. But having the little girl cling to him had been a bit too much.

Regarding the couple Harry decided that they hadn't noticed, as they were grinning broadly at him.

'Well, hello then Harry. Nice meeting you. Sam and Mary Lou need to come home for supper now. Probably your parents will be worried as well if you do not show up soon, won't they?'

'No.'

_Silence._

'I mean. Yeah. Of course, generally they would. Well actually I live at my aunt and uncle's place. Err. They know I am here, you see?'

_Stop babbling.. _Harry thought, berating himself. Yet again he managed to look like an idiot in front of people he had met only seconds ago.

'Err, they are very busy today and told me I could stay out a little longer than usual.' That wasn't even exactly a lie. 'So, uhm. I might just stay a little longer I think.'

'Can't he join us for supper?' Tom suddenly interrupted. 'He must be hungry by now and surely there's enough for him too, isn't there? Otherwise he'd be sitting here alone, all by himself. That'd be really not nice.'

'Well.' Regarding Harry Mrs. Gregory seemed uncertain.

_Of course she is uncertain.. _Harry thought. _Who would want him to be around anyway, let alone join them for supper? _

'Harry won't your aunt and uncle be worried where you are? Surely we'd have to call and make sure it is alright with them!'

'NO!'_ They couldn't possibly learn about this! For once in his life he had found friends, surely they would take it away from him as soon as they knew. He'd just have to go back home and pretend that nothing had happened._

'I mean. No, that's REALLY not necessary, they won't mind. They let me eat at friend's places all the time.' Ok. That was a lie. But what was the alternative? He couldn't go home yet and refusing to have supper with them in favour of sitting at the play yard, alone, doing nothing - that'd really look suspicious, wouldn't it? Apart from that Harry couldn't help but notice that he actually liked the idea. _Sam had actually invited him. HIM! _

Looking at the boy once more who seemed clearly afraid to be left out (and also taking into account the fact that Mary Lou had yet refused to unstick from Harry's chest) Mrs. Gregory sighed.

'Well I guess it will be alright then, but let's see that it will not be too long, otherwise they might send a search party after you!'

Smiling encouragingly she turned around, followed by her husband holding the picnic basket they had brought along and three hungry kids.

Not to make a big deal out of supper or the additional guest, they decided to set up some plates in the backyard and place some salad and bread in the middle of the table, so everyone could feel free to help oneself.

Maybe a quarter of an hour had passed when the doorbell rang. Mrs. Gregory got up to answer it, merrily noticing that the little boy who had at first picked cautiously at the food, was digging in heartily now.

Harry felt genuinely happy. This had been a great day. He had found friends to play with, been invited to a beautiful home and been given the feeling that he was ... _included_. And his uncle hadn't been around. All day long!

He closed his eyes, capturing this very serene feeling and nearly choked on a piece of bread when he looked up again. Another guest had joined their supper - Dr. C!

'Hey Dad' Sam jovially greeted. 'That's Harry' (he gave his father a significant glance). 'We saw him at the playground today and invited him over!'

Coughing Harry looked at Dr. C and then at Sam again.

'That's your Dad?'

x x x

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	6. Talks

**Chapter 6: Talks**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_

I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this. I do this for fun.

_**Warnings: **_Extreme OOCness (and henceforth always will be, no further warnings regarding that!) lots of hurt and heartache. I had a hard time writing this and wouldn't have posted it unless a very nice person had reassured me to do it, you can thank her for it.

_**This chapter is dedicated to Jasmine. **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 6 - Talks**

The peaceful ambience of Little Whinging during sunset was betraying the visitor's eye straying through the deserted streets where everything looked ordinary, normal, _out of question_. Occasional by-passers hadn't seen what had happened behind closed doors, shielded from curious views, only an hour ago.

Now Petunia tried to hide her nervousness which was hard to overlook as she kept folding the little handkerchief for the twentieth time or so since she had grabbed hold of it. Obviously she had been crying but Albus politely tried not to notice. Upon asking her she had - close to tears – told him that '_everything was just fine'._

He was sitting opposite to her and sipping the cup of tea he had been offered (_to his surprise_). He had expected not to be let in or maybe dealt with in passing. But he had been wrong. Clearly Petunia was making an effort although his mere presence seemed to disturb her greatly. She had slammed the cup down on the coffee table in front of him so violently that for a moment he had feared it might break. But it didn't and he had taken the drink, heartily thanking Petunia, settling himself down. Obviously she wanted the matter – whatever the sudden reason therefore was – to be dealt with properly (_and ultimately_).

Watching her serenely for another minute he waited for her to calm down but as time elapsed and her anxiousness only seemed to increase he came to the conclusion that she wouldn't settle for quite some time and so he started the conversation.

'I received your letter Petunia and I must say it disquieted me a lot. I decided to come here right away to talk to you. What is troubling you, my child?'

_Why did he do this? Pretending to care about her, trying to trick her into giving him the information he wanted by giving her endearing names no one had bothered to call her for a very long time? Surely she was not going to tell him how miserable she felt, how lost...scared! She wasn't going to tell him what had happened just an hour ago, what had made her write that letter, utter desperation overcoming her pride for a brief moment of weakness._

All she had always had since the glamorous world of the wizards and witches had been shown to her (and then been withheld from her) had been an ordinary yet manageable life. It hadn't been much but not having a choice, she had coped. She had not complained. She had married a man (who had been at first great, then ok, then better than nothing and then plainly there) and a son had been born to them. For a while everything had been fine, she didn't need to compare herself to her sister anymore. She had a life – a family – of her own now! She even started liking it, forgetting about her childhood hurt, maintaining a rather distant relationship with her sister being able to take pride in her own accomplishments for the first time in her life.

Then it had happened. They had been killed and Harry had been placed in their care by that very person who sat opposite to her now, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he had destroyed her life by doing so!

Suddenly she had to watch Dudley being in a latent competition with another boy – her sister's boy – and the emotional balance she had tried to keep had been upset gravely. Surely she wouldn't allow her son to make this same horrible experience she had made! She would take care of it. He wouldn't experience what it was like to come second by default, bested in every possible and impossible way, outshone by another person's giftedness. She wouldn't let it happen!

But as she had always struggled to keep her son away from that experience, she had added to her nephew's already miserable life each time she made him feel bad for the sake of her own son. No matter what she did, it had always been wrong, leaving her to feel guilty, inadequate.

Yet she had somehow grown accustomed to this attitude, bitterness becoming her sole companion, her single constant force. It had become so familiar to her that she was even acting like it when there was no need, unable to refrain from doing so although she hated herself for it. She started belittling Harry even when Dudley was not around and snubbed him even more when she had done so, trying to drive him away from her – maybe if he started to hate her he wouldn't mind as much anymore. But each time she did, she felt that she had just added more hurt and sadness to this little boy._ Why wouldn't he hate her? _

It had been horrible. But yet somehow everything had been in a (although very unfair) balance. Until now. Her whole life. Everything she had achieved, done or been part of had been crushed mercilessly, leaving no space for pretending that there was something different to the cruel reality which had shown itself to her mercilessly this afternoon in form of her drunk husband.

x x x

'_Darling I was worried sick, where have you been?' she had asked, genuinely upset. She had wondered if he had slept in the car and driven to work the next morning without coming home, but regarding his sloppy clothes, his messy hair and worst – the obtrusive smell of alcohol surrounding him – she had figured that in fact he might not have done quite so. On second sight, the lack of his car also spoke against this theory._

_Stumbling through the hallway he grabbed his wife, came very close to her face and babbled _

'_You know what the problem with lying is? You have to be so damn clever to remember everything you said! Who would have guessed?'_

_Confused Petunia had tried to push him away a little bit as she was really starting to feel uncomfortable to have him stand so close by, being so...weird. _

'_I had a really good night yer...err...yesterday. I didn't have to think about the boy and noth...noth...nothing else for that matter.' He continued, occasionally stumbling across a very difficult word. _

'_But see, the cops wouldn't let me drive home once the pub closed. Don't even know where the hell they came from. Told them to mind their own business and somehow I felt sick ANYway...yes...' _

_Eyes out of focus he tried to take in his surroundings but was clearly struggling to do so, obviously he was trying very hard to recollect the past night's events. _

'_Next thing I remember is that I woke up in a sobering-up cell. Can you believe that?' _

_Petunia was shocked, holding both her hands to her wide-opened mouth, unable to put words to her thoughts. It was on a record now! An official record! How was she ever going to cover that up?_

'_But you see honey.' He tried to make a discharging gesture and fell against the cupboard, causing its hinges to groan terribly. 'Well they woke me this morning because my cell phone kept ringing. Can you believe that? My boss called asking where I was. I was so tired and well somehow what you had said popped to my mind and I told him that I was bringing the boy to the doctor's.'_

_Grunting noisily, he shifted himself as the cupboard's hinges seemed to squeeze his back uncomfortably, causing the wooden door to splinter a little. Pointing his index finger at his wife while terribly swaying he came close to jabbing her right in the eye but oblivious to this he just regarded her deprecatingly. _

'_To the doctor's. GREAT idea Petunia! Not that there wasn't a record to be checked! Not at ALL! GREAT IDEA...' _

_Talking more to the wall than to his clearly upset wife by now as he kept losing his balance and had turned around by another 180 degrees he clapped a hand to his sweaty forehead, scratching it absent-mindedly._

'_Damn I was really confused why he kept talking about 'having heard all of that yesterday already' and some stuff about vaccine. Really thought he had gone mad. I think I might have told him so.'_

_(At this Petunia couldn't gasp anymore, she just kept standing there aghast). _

'_See honey.' Somehow this endearment sent shivers down her spine, at least coming from him in such a state. 'I think he started screaming and muttering then... I don't get why everybody is NAGGING me all the time now!' Having screamed the last part of his sentence Petunia had backed away several feet but Vernon had grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him again. _

'_No, you will listen now! You wanted to talk, have your talk and LISTEN damn it!' _

_Her wrist hurt being held so forcefully but she tried to put on a nice smile (at least she managed not to look like she was scared to death) and forced herself to ask_

'_What happened then?'_

'_I hung up and he just kept calling. I told the cops that I wasn't going to answer it anymore and they should feel free to do so themselves if they were bothered by it. Stupid filth. So next time it rang they actually did. Damn I swear I would have loved to see that expression when they told him I was unavailable and well actually I don't remember what they told him. They just told me I needn't bother go to work this week anymore once they hung up so I thought might just call it quits then.'_

_Trying to break free from her husband's grip she drew his attention by doing so once he had finished his account. He noticed tears running down her cheeks. Clearly annoyed by that he dismissively let go of her, grunting disgustedly. _

'_What is it NOW? Why isn't the bloody boy around anyway?'_

_Silence._

'_WHERE IS HE?'_

'_I sent him to play outside.'_

'_You WHAT?'_

'_Vernon, we NEED TO TALK. I sent him away so we'd have some time to talk without anybody around who is disturbing us.' _

_Splendid. He had learnt that the boy was stupid and therefore not really catching on to it at all a long time ago. But now his wife was starting this as well. He really would have expected more than that. _

'_WHY THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK WE NEED TO TALK?' _

_Now crying freely she tried to gather all her courage, very shaken by the fact that she – up until now at least – hadn't had to deal with a completely drunk husband who was clearly in no state to be reasoned with (but was he ever?). _

'_These last days have been hard on us. On YOU Vernon. A lot of things have happened which should not have happened. Of course this wasn't your fault!' (She had received a very terrifying look). 'But please, please let me help you.'_

'_HELP ME?'_

_Silence._

'_Why the HELL do you think you need to HELP me? Do I have a damn sign pinned to my forehead reading 'BLOODY RESCUE ME?''_

_And with that he had pushed her forcefully out of the way and staggered into the living room, not noticing that his wife had hurt her shoulder badly. _

'_Why isn't the boy here DAMN IT!'_

_I just told you I sent him away. Don't you remember? _

'_I don't know.'_

_Suddenly Vernon halted, comprehension dawning on his face, causing it to twist uglily. Clearly he was trying to think although it seemed to be a difficult affair considering his state of mind._

'_I think I might have lost myself my job because of the boy.' He mused alarmingly quiet, face still distorted. _

_Holding her shoulder Petunia backed away several feet towards the kitchen alcove when her husband made his way towards the hallway again._

'_THAT BLOODY BOY COST ME MY JOB!' he ranted. 'He better not dare come back home or I'll make short shrift of him for GOOD!'_

_Turning around once more, swaying dangerously, he added _

'_But first I need to find my car!'_

_Having said this he left, slamming the door shut. _

_Only after several minutes Petunia had managed to stop crying and decided to put an end to this. Dumbledore had to take Harry away with him. He just couldn't stay here. Of course here was the place all charms had been set up – for him. But she doubted their effect against her husband. _

_Still shaken badly she had written the letter and sent him away before she could change her mind. But she had set her heart on one thing – she would not humiliate herself and ask for help. She would manage ...somehow. She just needed Harry to be taken away. Maybe that would solve their problems already._

'_Not to do him a favour though', she decided and hated herself for it. I only do this so my life can be normal again._

x x x

Seeing that Petunia was clearly doing lots of thinking, not sure if she was actually trying to work out the situation or if she was just working herself into that hurt state of hers where she couldn't be reasoned with anymore, Albus decided to intervene, asking yet again

'Petunia, my child, what is troubling you so gravely?'

Refusing to be lulled in by this serene approach, she snapped.

'Listen...you. ALBUS.' (He was clearly surprised but quite pleased by this personal approach although its unexpectedness was intriguing him).

'This isn't about me. This is about the boy. He CAN'T stay here. We kept him long enough. You just need to find another suitable place as I am sure you have a lot of loyal friends who would be delighted to take him.'

_Such coldness. Such hurt. _

_Was she still resenting the boy so much? After all these years? To try and get rid of him so easily, ready to dump him at the next best doorstep? Yet – wasn't that what he had done to her in the first place? Well. He hadn't exactly chosen the next best doorstep for Harry, he certainly had had his reasons to bring him here. But to Petunia it surely must have looked like it. Somehow he had hoped that she would overcome her hurt and as years would pass, recognise Harry for what he was – and not only see what he embodied (and Petunia obviously was lacking). _

'My child...'

'STOP calling me this!'

_Why did he do this to her? Pretend to be nice to her. Give her the feeling to be special, when clearly she didn't belong to such persons – such as him – when clearly she had been rejected a long time ago. She wouldn't fall for that now!_

_Sigh. _

'Petunia. We have discussed this before. At length. It is immensely important that Harry stayed here until his 17th birthday. You know why and you agreed! What has happened to change your mind?'

_If he stays here probably he will not reach his 17th birthday. _

'Nothing.'

'But why are you so miserable then? I can tell.'

_No you can't. _

'Whatever is troubling you I beg you, talk to me, Petunia!'

_What am I supposed to say? That my family is falling apart? My only refuge? That I am scared of my husband now? My own husband! That he has completely lost his mind now and is ruining everything? That I don't know what he will do next once a tiny thing sets him off again? To whoever is stupid enough to be in reach at that time? No Albus. You refused to help me years ago when I was desperate – begging you! I will not belittle myself again like that. _

'There is nothing I have to say to you.' Grave bitterness was accompanying her words.

Albus felt that he wouldn't reach Petunia at this state. Yet she must be desperate. She would never have written to him otherwise. Inwardly he sighed.

'May I speak to the boy then?'

'He isn't around.'

'I could wait for him.'

'NO.'

_Sigh. _

'Petunia what do you want me to do? Be reasonable. If I was to take the boy with me, I would need to speak to him first, don't you think so?'

_Silence._

'He will not remember me. He was 15 months old when he saw me the last time. If he did so at all. I cannot just appear out of nothingness and take him with me, being a complete stranger to him. You wouldn't do that to him. Take him out of the familiar life and well-known surroundings to be replaced by something new, completely unknown, surrounded by strangers.'

_I couldn't bear it.. _Albus thought.

Petunia felt miserable. _Why did he try to force her to say it so badly? She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't ask for his help to get through this. He had denied her what she had longed for a long time ago, to be included, and now she wasn't going to ask HIM to help her. _She took all that hurt that had been stuffed back down in the depths of her heart and hardened her build-up facade with it, determined not to give her emotions, her feelings away to that man ever again.

'I refuse to talk to you unless you can assure me that you will take the boy away from here and find another..suitable.. place.'

Gravely saddened but recognising that he was not going to convince Petunia at this point that she could after all talk to him, trust him, he decided to give her a chance to digest the day's events – whatever had happened – and make preparations if there was really the need arising to take the boy away with him. Desperately as he wanted to help this girl, this poor little child, he yet refrained from trying to force her to tell him anything right away. She would have to start trusting him. There was no other way without hurting her feelings even further.

x x x

Harry still struggled to catch his breath as he seemed to be in serious danger of suffocation. Being clapped on his back heartily by Sam Harry twisted his face once more in pain but managed to swallow the lump of bread that had been stuck in his throat. _Hopefully no one had seen._

Tom was surprised by the turn events had taken – to say the least – yet he decided to make the best out of it as usually such things followed their own unique and rarely foreseeable direction. Surely he hadn't expected to meet the boy so soon. _Hoped for it, yes. But not expected it. _He had wanted to figure out something, a way to approach him, talk to him. But obviously Sam hadn't been able to control his eagerness and set out for the playground, waiting if he showed up. And he had! _'Hopefully this approach was not too hasty' _he thought, deciding to break the lingering silence.

'I believe we have already met, haven't we?' Grinning broadly he walked around the table, outstretching his hand towards the boy who seemed to be equally stunned by the event's developments.

Tentatively the boy took the hand being offered to him and shook it carefully.

'Yes Sir. Ehm. Hi, Dr. Connor...sir.'

Tom had to gather all his self-restraint not to laugh at this endearing sight and forced his lingering grin into an amused but not twitting smile.

Still holding on to the boy's hand he put his other hand on top of it, squeezing it lightly _(he had meant it to be a reassuring gesture but somehow the boy seemed to be – in pain?). _Carefully he glanced at it while stroking his thumb across it, trying not to draw the boy's attention to it. _This hand was sprained to say the least! It wasn't easy to be detected without special equipment if there was further damage done – he couldn't tell. It was impossible to recognise for an untrained eye, but he had seen this injury hundreds of times already. The wrist seemed swollen and the carpal bone more flexible than it was supposed to be. Was this a result of the alleged bike accident after all? How did the boy manage to ignore it? He needed to find out, somehow. _

Carefully letting go of the hand he offered

'You may call me Tom. You know I do not really fancy those titles or any kind of impersonal approach. There is really no need for it, okay, Harry?'

_This felt so...nice. Someone was calling him by his name. Actually saying his name as if he meant it (and even furthermore doing so without putting derogating adjectives in front of it or using them in the same sentence). _

'Harry? Are you alright?'

Embarrassed by his daydreaming, Harry blushed violently. _How long had it taken to make an idiot out of himself in front of this man now? Half a minute? _

'Oh yeah. Thanks. I am great..err...Tom?'

Smiling affirmatively Tom stretched out his hand to tousle the boy's hair but his heart sank at the reaction. _He had flinched again. _Faking his movement into a rather sweeping gesture he addressed the rest of the lot sitting around the table, trying to take some of the uneasiness out of the moment.

'You wouldn't believe what a tough day this has been! I am so glad I am here now. Tell me kids, what have you been doing with your new friend?' With that he sat back in one of the chairs next to Mrs. Gregory and took a piece of bread from the middle of the table, arming himself for the next minutes of eager listening.

Mary Lou was excitedly telling him how she had brilliantly fought the castle war against Harry and Sam and been victorious in the end _(as usual)_. Now and then her brother would add some details to the merry account. Only Harry hadn't said a thing yet.

_He must feel uneasy.. _Tom thought._ He looked weary and so...tense. Maybe he could get a chance to talk to him alone before he left again. He couldn't let him walk away again and keep this feeling which yet again caused his stomach to knot painfully. He knew this boy was hurt. He had seen it, felt it!_

'Harry does your Aunt know that you are here?'

Tom already berated himself for his haste and came to the conclusion that indeed this had been a stupid question to ask when trying to break the ice.

'Err...you see. She doesn't mind. She was SO busy today she said I could go and play and was allowed to stay out a little longer...I figured it was alright...she never minded before...right?'

'Ah I see.'

_Silence. _

'Tell you what, I'll give you a lift. By now it really is quite late, I don't want you to walk all the way back home by yourself at such a time.'

_This wasn't good. _Harry felt fear and a painful urge to tell him that this wasn't possible crawl up his spine. Emotions were overwhelming him_ – he really cared. Genuinely. He wasn't a doctor here who was required to do so because it was expected of him. Here he was – Tom. And he cared, was fearing for his safety. This person was so nice to him. He had watched him talk to his kids, listen to their day's account. He was really interested in it! Not only asking out of habit or because he felt obliged to do so. _

_So that's what it is supposed to be like.. _Harry had mused silently._ Yet if he drove him back home Aunt Petunia would notice. And of course she would recognise him to be their new doctor! How could she forget this man? She would surely think that he had given away some detail – any detail – about their family life which wasn't supposed to be spread. Maybe Uncle Vernon was already at home by now, too. They would be really upset, fearing for their facade to shatter. He hadn't said a single bad thing but who would believe him anyway? Surely they would think he had been spreading lies and never let him go outside again!_

_Weird coincidence though... _Harry thought, regarding the man standing in front of him yet wow he looked different when not at work! He still wore loosely fitting pants and a rather normal black slim fit shirt. Around his neck hung a necklace with a bone or something that looked like a big animal's tooth, cool but freaky though. It seemed to be the counterpart to his earring, well ear-fang, and it was obvious why he had to take if off while working. Apart from that he looked rather unchanged, his brown longish hair carelessly combed behind his ears with his fingers.

_Maybe he could convince Tom to drop him off at the end of the right street and say goodbye so he'd be able to walk back home the last bit. He had to try. And he really started feeling uncomfortable now. Everybody was looking at him! Oh why was he so stupid, losing himself in his thoughts constantly. _

'Err...it's okay I guess..I mean...uhm..thanks. You needn't bother though if it is too much trouble.'

Sympathetically smiling at the boy Tom nodded and grabbing another piece of bread he stood up. He wanted to talk to the boy alone. This wouldn't work if he took his kids along. It would surely overstrain the boy's emotions, his own emotions for that matter!

'Don't you worry about it. This is no trouble at all. We better get going then. Kids, I'll pick you up when I come back. I don't want you to rush your supper. Finish and once I am back we can get back home do something fun, okay?'

Looking into his daughter's delighted and son's curious eyes he received two approving nods and turned towards Harry who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

_He really loves them.. _Harry thought deeply saddened, choking back a sniff_. I want that too._

x x x

They had been driving for a couple of minutes already and it wouldn't take very long until they reached #4 Privet Drive. This might take a quarter of an hour when walking, but going by car surely this wasn't a long way. _Not exactly much time to talk. _

'So Harry. You met my kids. I am glad you get along.'

'Yeah.'

'Would you like to come back?'

'What?'

'I just thought after all it's still holidays and you know, maybe you'd like to visit us at our place some time. I am sure Sam and Mary Lou would be delighted to be able to play with you again. They really like you.'

'That'd...that'd be great.'

_Silence. _

'I think I need to check with my aunt first though.' ... 'But I am sure she won't mind!' he added hastily.

_Silence._

Privet Drive was coming closer and this wasn't really working out. The tension in the car was increasing so much, it almost felt like it was tangible. As Tom started to feel desperate suddenly he was interrupted by the little boy's clearly hesitant voice.

'Tom?'

'Yes, Harry?'

_How did he do it? Call him by his name, making him not sound worthless. _

'I think you can let me out here I can walk the last bit, it's really alright you don't have to bother.'

'Are you joking? I am not bothered at all. Why would you think that? I want to make sure you arrive home safely and I do so gladly.'

_Silence._

Two hearts were sinking into the depths of their owner's stomach, making them feel uneasy and very upset, for different reasons though.

Tom regarded the boy who was looking desperate, ready to faint anytime soon. Sighing he pulled over his car and came to a halt an intersection away from Privet Drive. Unfastening his seatbelt he turned to face the kid who had teared up by now.

'You weren't allowed to stay, were you?'

The boy just shook his head miserably, tears forcefully clinging to his eyelashes as he refused to look up.

'What will happen when I take you back home?'

_They will know! They will take it away from me. Take YOU away from me! _

_Silence. _

'Harry.'

The boy couldn't hold back his emotions any longer and started sobbing heart-wrenchingly, leaning feebly against the seatbelt. Ignoring the flinch Tom put his hand on top of the boys head and stroked his hair gently.

'Maybe I can talk to your Aunt and explain...'

'NO!'

Harry hadn't meant to scream but caught by surprise he hadn't been able to hold back. Unfastening his seatbelt too he tried to look less miserable when facing Tom.

'Please.' He begged. 'Don't talk to her. Can't we just pretend that I wasn't there? She'd never have to know!'

_This was heart-breaking._

'Harry what happened to your hand?'

The boy looked at his knees again, his hair falling into his eyes, shielding them from view.

'I fell.' _That wasn't even a lie. _

'Why did you fall?'

_Why was he making this so hard on him? _Harry choked back several violent sobs and then barely whispered

'Because I am clumsy. It's my own fault. It happens all the time.'

His emotions were overwhelming him. Tears started running down his cheeks freely although he tried so hard to hold them back! Brushing them away angrily with his palms he regarded his left hand which was smeared with make-up now. Realisation dawning on his face he clapped his hand to his cheek again, eyes wide-opened, fearful.

He tried to hold on to it forcefully but felt himself unable to do so when gently Tom reached for his hand and pulled it away. Holding Harry's chin with his other hand, tilting the boy's head lightly to the side he looked at the up-to-now well covered-up bruise showing on the boy's cheekbone now, stroking a strand of hair away with his thumb.

He felt like his heart had been stabbed. Feeling the boy's hurt and pain he was desperate to take that burden off the kid but unsure how to do it.

'Harry I want to help you.'

Stroking the boy's unhurt cheek gently he suddenly felt a pair of arms flung around his waist. The boy was sobbing violently, leaning his face against his chest, holding on to his shirt forcefully. Putting his arms carefully around him he continued to stroke his hair again, trying to calm him, reassure him.

'It'll be alright. We will figure it out. It'll be alright.'

'No it won't.' The boy cried out.

'Why?'

_Sob._

'Because now you know! You weren't supposed to know. No one was supposed to know!'

'Shhh it's alright Harry.'

Desperate to calm the boy he felt overwhelmed by his own emotions as well. Surely he had had an uneasy feeling about the boy. About his family. He had had suspicions although he had tried to be careful with them. But seeing those suspicions confirmed he felt shaken, enraged. _How could one possibly do this to the own child?_

Surely he had seen several abused kids due to his area of work. Each time there were the same symptoms. The same fearful faces upon feeling discovered, exposed. Babbled explanations trying to justify clearly non accident-related injuries. He knew all this. And every time it broke his heart.

'Harry no one will hurt you anymore. I promise. You have to believe me! But you have to talk to me.'

Feeling the light shake of the boy's head he felt his stomach twist even more. This was such a double bind each time. Once having discovered the kid's 'secret', being sure that it was abused, he had to take action. He was not only required by law to help, but his conscience wouldn't allow him to do anything different. But having said this, he knew that the child was usually traumatized. It would do everything to deny the fact that its secret was uncovered. Try to keep the attained – though unfortunate – state because it provided safeness, certainty. It had to be shown that there was a different way, but doing so he'd break its trust now that he 'knew' and was begged not to tell. It was always a lousy situation.

'You can't talk to them please! I'll just go back!'

'Harry.'

_Sigh. _

'I cannot let you go back just like this. Trust me. This isn't your fault...'

'Yes it is! I deserve it! I make them angry all the time it's not their fault I make them do it!'

_That just hurt so much. _

Gently withdrawing the boy's face from his chest, cupping his cheeks gently with his hands, he looked at the boy waiting for him to lift his gaze.

'Harry look at me.'

Fearfully the boy looked up. Confusion and hurt, anger and pain was evident on his face, in his heart.

'This is not your fault. And this is not your responsibility. You never should have been put in such a situation. I promise you I won't let you get hurt again. Let me sort this out. Just trust me. It will be okay. Okay?'

_Shake. _

Tom felt bad but he had to do this... Carefully stroking the boy's cheek with his hand once more he fastened his seatbelt again and with a nod of his head asked the boy to do alike. Looking into the teary eyes desperate and fearful, he had to take a deep breath.

'Let's sort this out then.'

x x x

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed?


	7. Coming Home

**Chapter 7: Coming Home**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_

I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. I do not make any money with this. I do this for fun.

My heavy use of italics was addressed by **atozap** and I gave it some thought. Here's what I think:

I understand that it is confusing at times. But I rather have you learn about the story's development through inner monologues and such rather than plainly putting it up stringent, self-explanatory or mark it with 'start flashback' 'end flashback' 'start memory' e.g. That would get quite boring and also interfere with the story's atmosphere.

However I re-edited the last chapters a little (real time direct speech is not put in italics anymore) to make it easier. You will get the hang of it and I'll try my best not to bewilder you. Hope you enjoy.

_**Warnings: **_Abuse, lots of hurt and anxiousness.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 7 - Coming Home**

Harry was rigid with fear.

_How could Tom do this to him? He wouldn't believe him anymore. Surely Aunt Petunia would make up a great story to explain his injuries. She always did. Teachers in school fell for it, neighbours, everybody! And there would be no one left believing him, he'd be the liar. It'd be his fault. And if he talked to Uncle Vernon...the thought was unbearable!_

When he still didn't move, Tom leaned forward to fasten Harry's seatbelt again, carefully folding it across his chest. As it clicked shut, Tom stroked his cheek with the back of his hand once more lightly, brushed some shed tears away with his thumb and started the engine again.

Grabbing the fabric of the seatbelt forcefully Harry's knuckles went white with pressure. He leaned his chin against his chest and tried to push himself back into his seat. His back hurt by doing so but he didn't care. It seemed to antagonise the dull hurt coming from his heart, kept it at bay. He was so confused. He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes, trying to debar the world around him for a second. Absent-mindedly he started to rock himself back and forth, stroking his cheek with his hand as Tom had done before, trying to hold on to the situation, eyes still shut.

Merely a few moments had passed when the car was pulled over and they came to a halt again, this time in front of #4 Privet Drive. It was getting dark by now and there was light coming from inside the house.

For a moment Tom had hoped to find the house deserted, empty. To give him any reason to just turn around and take the boy back home with him. But obviously there was somebody at home and this somebody was in need of some serious talk!

He took another deep breath to becalm himself. This was not going to be easy. Such talks never were. But there was no way he would just let this little guy walk back into the house, pretend that nothing had happened and just stand by and wait for what would be done to him next. He would need to have a thorough look at the boy anyway, document his injuries, make sure they were taken care of and mended if possible.

Often there were many injuries in different stages of healing. Maybe scars or other signs of prior abuse which had to be recorded too. Yet he knew that often the physical pain was not the worst. It was the soul that was scarred. The wounds that could not be seen outwardly were the ones most difficult to heal – sometimes they never would.

Compassionately he looked at the little boy, so hurt, miserable, stroking his cheek apathetically. _'He doesn't look like he received a lot of comfort in his life so far.' _Tom thought saddened, his heart hurting from the mere sight.

'Harry?'

Nothing happened.

'Boy, look at me.'

Somehow this address seemed to reach the distant mind of the child as if somehow triggered. He stopped rocking and opened his eyes, staring blankly at the windscreen, still holding on to the seatbelt for dear life. Yet he refused to look up.

Sighing, Tom reached for Harry's chin, gently forcing him to face him and waited until he lifted his gaze.

'You need to listen to me now. I will go inside and talk to your uncle and aunt. I want you to stay here and wait for me. I promise I will be back as soon as possible. Okay?'

The boy's chest rose and fell quickly as he breathed heavily. He was very upset – to say the least – yet he refused to talk to him. Tom looked into the teary eyes, begging him not to go do it, not to leave him alone. _Not to give away his secret. _But there was no other way to end this! Harry looked to be close to having a panic attack.

Holding the boy's back with his one hand and resting the other one on top of his violently moving chest he tried to put on his most reassuring look, carefully choosing gentle words.

'Shhh...Everything will be alright. Take deep breaths. In and out. Concentrate, Harry. In and out. That's right. You are doing fine. I will come back soon and all will be alright. There is nothing you need to be scared of.'

Once he was certain that the boy wouldn't suffer from an attack or faint due to his prior hyperventilation he got out of the car and halted. Leaning his upper body inside once more he looked Harry right in the eye and tried to sound as stern as he dared for this was important and he didn't want the boy to be disturbed any further by having to witness what was coming.

'Stay. In. The. Car!'

With that he closed the door determinedly. Steeling his mind he took another deep breath as he walked up the driveway to the house, trying to mentally prepare himself for anything that might happen during the next minutes.

x x x

If it hadn't been for the light inside Tom would have thought no one was at home by the third time he had rung the bell and yet nothing had happened. Now he heard shuffling noises behind the door but apart from that nothing moved.

'Mrs. Dursley? This is Dr. Connor. I need to talk to you and your husband.'

The shuffling noise stopped.

_Sigh._

'I am not going anywhere. You might as well open the door.'

Another few awkward moments passed, then the door was opened with a jerk. Looking into the red-rimmed eyes of the tall woman standing opposite him now, he found nothing that resembled the person that had been sitting in his surgery a few days ago, self-confident, a put on smile firmly in place.

'I thought you were my husband who forgot his keys and... well...'

Clapping a hand to her mouth she looked clearly embarrassed, caught off guard. This moment lasted only briefly though and he was confronted with a glare again (which probably was supposed to be a look of heartfelt disgust although it made the woman appear rather pitiable).

'How may I help you?' She asked, regarding his appearance without making an effort to hide it.

'I believe you are missing something.'

'Excuse me?'

'I believe your nephew hasn't returned home yet and it is quite late now. Weren't you wondering where your 9-year-old boy was at such a time at night?'

Realisation started to dawn on her face. Before she could say or ask anything, Tom continued.

'I believe we need to talk, and I think we better go inside unless you want the neighbours to be part of this conversation which will surely be...interesting.'

Tom berated himself for his hasty approach but he couldn't help it. He felt angry and desperate. So long had he been uncertain, not being able to do anything. And now strong emotions were flooding through his body, barely controllable. On the other hand, he knew this wasn't going to be easy and surely it wouldn't do the boy any good to start beating around the bush now once he got the ball rolling.

Obviously his harsh approach had not failed to have the desired effect for the woman started to look around, anxiously checking if others had noticed their dialogue.

'Very well' she spat, her voice venomous, turning around, gesturing him to come in.

Following her into the living room Tom couldn't help but notice the splintered cupboard door which didn't fit into the completely sterile ambience at all. Everything was spotless and tidy and there it hung, so broken, so _unfitting. _

'Sit down then.' Petunia barely whispered, not trusting her voice as she offered the seat a second time this day to yet another very unwelcome visitor.

She had been upset all day. Her shoulder hurt and it felt like a mess of emotions had been heaped on her. At first she had been afraid. Of her husband. Of anything he might do to the boy. Of the headmaster who surely would force her to tell him what he wanted to know any second. But as time had passed and neither her husband, nor the boy, nor the headmaster were around anymore, she had been able to put some of that self-consciousness aside and resume with her daily work.

Now and then she had glanced at her watch. _When would her husband return? Hopefully the boy wouldn't be stupid enough to come back before they had sorted this. _The more time passed the less she was looking forward to seeing her husband again. She wondered if he could be reasoned with this time. But surely it would be alright once the boy was gone. _That was it. She hadn't upset Vernon, the boy had._

'Mrs. Dursley?'

Being jerked out of her daydreaming by her visitor she frowned at him. _What did he know? Surely she was not going to let him trick her into telling anything. She'd control her emotions, lean back and listen to what he had to say as she had done countless times with Harry's teachers or anyone who had started to ask funny questions for that matter. _

'Yes?'

'Doesn't it make you wonder that your nephew hasn't come home yet?'

'Well. Usually he would not be allowed to play that long outside but you see, I had a lot on my mind today and told him that I would make an exception. It's holidays after all.'

Studying the red-rimmed eyes of the woman Tom wondered what had been on her mind all day.

'I see. But when did you expect him to be back?'

'Well. Any time now, actually.'

Still she was unsure where this was supposed to be going. Feeling uneasy she asked

'So. How does this concern you? Do you know where Harry is?'

'Actually I do. My kids and he met on the playground today, quite accidentally. I had a chance to talk to him.'

'WHAT did he tell you?'

'What do you think he told me?'

That was enough for Petunia. Surely she was not going to play this game!

'Listen' she spat, unable to withhold her emotions. 'He is a kid. He has a wanton imagination. Whatever he said, probably it was exaggerated.'

'You are not answering my question.'

Petunia sighed. _Why was everybody trying to force her to tell? She hadn't spent years and years covering up her husband's flaws – triggered by the boy of course – to blow the cover in a single afternoon now! _

'I believe I let you into my house because YOU wanted to talk to ME! Talk then!' Her lips were tightly pursed together, determined not to let another word slip.

_Fine, _Tom thought_. Have it your way then. _

'Mrs. Dursley your nephew shows clear signs of abuse. Could you explain this?'

_Silence. _

'What signs of abuse?'

'He has a sprained wrist.'

'I told you he had this nasty bike accident.'

'He also has a bruised cheek.'

'He fell down.'

_Sigh. _

'So tell me then. Why was there the need to cover it up with make-up?'

'Because... because he was ashamed of it. He didn't want anybody to see that he was clumsy and fell down.'

This woman was really coming close to seriously annoying him now! Barely able to suppress his emotions he took a deep breath to keep from screaming at her.

'Why was he afraid to come back home then? If there was no need to worry, no reason to fear?'

_This wasn't fair, _Petunia thought. She was usually the one reasoning with others, leaving them dumbfounded and quite speechless with her argumentation. Her mind was racing but somehow the right words wouldn't come up.

'Well you see my husband..._' No this wasn't good either. _

'Actually...well..' Unconsciously she started rubbing her shoulder as it still hurt badly, she felt so vulnerable, her facade shattering leaving her so..exposed. She felt heat rising inside.

Tom couldn't help but feel sorry for this woman. He had heard these excuses lots of times and they enraged him. But at the same time he knew why there was the need for those excuses in the first place, the fear of discovery, the angst that the life – miserable as it might be – one had had up until now would fail and leave a gap full of insecurity. Her whole attitude, so insecure, her red-rimmed eyes, her gesture...

'Does he hit you as well?'

_Silence. _

'Please talk to me!'

Petunia sat there aghast. Attempting to find the right words she clenched her fists around the armrest of the couch.

'How could you think such a... of course he doesn't!' She was breathing heavily by now. 'He would never do this.'

'What happened to your shoulder?'

'Nothing.'

'Let me have a look at it. Maybe it is dislocated.'

Petunia looked like she was on the verge of tears now but clearly refused to let these emotions overrule her pride.

'Listen we don't need your help, everything is fine!'

_Why do they always have to make it so hard? _Tom thought.

'For crying out loud he is a child! He needs your protection. How could you possibly let this happen to him? He is your nephew!'

He regretted having said this immediately for surely it would not help at all to start doling out guilt now. Yet he was fuming. _The boy was 9 years old for goodness' sake!_

'Please. He needs help. YOU need help!'

'Listen.' Petunia was barely whispering. 'I didn't ask for this. This is not my fault!'

This wasn't working out the way Tom had hoped it would at all. This was miserable and the woman was evidently scared. They were circling the problem but obviously it wasn't making any difference at all. _And why did this woman keep glancing at her watch!_

'When is your husband going to be back?'

'I don't know.'

'Can I talk to him?'

'NO!'

'Mrs. Dursley I want to help you. I understand that you are afraid. But there are other ways than this here. Let me help you!'

_Silence._

Petunia tried to ignore the pain and forget the lump that had formed in her throat. She refused to blink, afraid to shed any tears. Gathering all her composure she took a deep breath to put an end to this ordeal.

'Listen Dr. Connor. This is a misunderstanding. You see the boy and my husband had a bit of a fight but it is only natural for boys this age to rebel. He was angry and upset my husband a little. I told him to spend the day outside so both could cool off their temper. Probably he fears the confrontation now and didn't want to come back home because of that. This has nothing to do with his bike accident at all. Believe me, we will sort this out, you are clearly overreacting but I appreciate your concern.'

_That was sleek. Yes. She still had it. _

Tom had leaned back and kept running his fingers through his hair, holding on to it, desperate to get through to this woman. _Didn't she realise that this wasn't fooling him? Was she really thinking that he would fall for this story that was not explaining the injuries, the lies regarding the hospital, the kid's account at all? _

'Does he even have a bike?'

_Silence._

He was about to take another step, tell her that he would inform the authorities (or anybody for that matter to get the woman talking!) when a bloodcurdling scream resounded from somewhere outside, followed by a deadly silence.

x x x

'Don't you think for one second that you will get away with this!'

With a powerful jerk Vernon had yanked open the door of the unfamiliar car that stood in his driveway and grabbed Harry by his upper arm, forcing him out of the car. Harry struggled to find a balance as his feet weren't touching the ground, gasping in shock.

_Where had Uncle Vernon come from? All of the sudden? He had been so lost in thought. He hadn't seen him. _

'Whose car is this?'

Harry felt paralyzed, unable to answer.

'I believe I asked you a question!' Vernon hissed coldly, sending shivers down Harry's spine. _How could he possibly tell without making it worse? There wasn't anything he could do to make it right._

When the boy didn't answer he gave him a mighty shove, causing him to hit his head against the car's door, giving him a nasty bump on his left temple.

'Uncle Vernon pleaase!' Harry was desperate, begging him to stop, holding his smarting head with his hand as his uncle kept slapping him.

_Why wasn't Tom here? He had promised nothing would happen and now he wasn't here! He had lied to him! He had forsaken him, just like everybody else – and pretended to care first to make it even harder on him. This hurt so much! Probably he didn't deserve anything better. _

'_Don't do this to me' _Harry thought._ 'Not you, too.'_

'WHO BROUGHT YOU HERE? WHAT LIES HAVE YOU BEEN TELLING?'

Vernon thundered, unable to hold back any of the rage that he had accumulated as the day had progressed. He had talked to his boss – former boss that was now. And he had not managed to get his car back as it had been impounded and not been returned to him as he was still drunk. He hadn't seen the boy – the reason for all of his trouble – all day and now when he came back he just sat here, escorted home by some stranger who had been fed lies, at least he was sure of that! Why else would someone – anyone – drive him home?

When the boy still didn't answer he grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against the door of the car again which exhibited an ugly dent now.

Harry screamed horribly and suddenly a huge flash of light came from his chest and a powerful wave of energy radiated off his body, dashing his uncle a couple of feet away where he noisily hit the ground and fell unconscious.

He thought he saw the front door of the house being yanked open and two people running towards him, but his head hurt so badly that his vision was completely blurred.

Shutting his eyes forcefully and clutching his hands to his head, Harry screamed at the top of his lungs until he had no breath left. Oblivious to everything going on around him he felt the force that had been building up in him erupt into another mighty wave of energy and then all was silent.

x x x

_When another moment had passed and nothing had happened Harry opened his eyes again, daring to take a peak as he withdrew his hands. He wasn't hurting anymore! Carefully touching his head he felt nothing out of the ordinary except for a strand of hair which refused to keep from falling into his face. _

_Taking a look around he immediately made out the silvery walls surrounding him. All was good now. He was safe now. Tentatively stretching his hand out towards the barrier he felt the warmth increase, this was so nice. This was all he needed right now. _

_He was sitting in the middle of his sphere, knees drawn up to his chest and his protective barriers dependably closing him in. There was nothing else: just him and the walls. He took another look around and as he continued to look through the silvery barrier, he thought that he could make out silhouettes of several people hurrying around him. Yet they couldn't touch him. They couldn't pass. _

'_No' Harry thought, smiling lightly. 'You can't hurt me anymore.'_

_As the warmth increased he felt his body relax and closed his eyes again. Harry was tired. So tired. Somewhere distant he heard a voice that kept calling something. It was a woman's voice, gentle and tranquilizing. He couldn't hear what she was saying so he tried to lower his guarding barriers for a brief moment. As he did, the voice became more audible, yet he couldn't hear what she was saying. _

_Trying to fully relax Harry gathered all his courage and let the barriers drop a little further. This time he heard the voice clearly in his head. _

'_Sweetie it's okay. Let go. Let him help you. It's alright. You are safe now.'_

_That voice was so ... he couldn't put a finger to it but desperately he tried not to forget the sound. Keeping his eyes closed he suddenly felt another wave of energy leave his body, leaving him tired and exhausted. The warmth faded as he fell out of his realm once more. _

x x x

Petunia screeched on top of her lungs when she saw her husband lying unconscious on the ground. Hurrying over to him she was oblivious to what else was happening.

Tom was shaken by the situation that presented itself to him. They had heard the scream and in an instant he had jumped off his seat and hastened towards the door, closely trailed by Petunia. Jerking it open he had seen a very fat man being blown backwards as if he was hit by a shockwave. Only when the light had faded could he see Harry who had slumped down next to his car. He was bleeding from a head wound and apparently totally traumatized; he held his hands to his head and started screaming as hard as he could.

Running towards Harry Tom wanted to reach out for the kid but felt pushed back by some kind of invisible barrier.

_What the hell was this? _

Again he tried to touch Harry but somehow he felt a force field push him back once he came closer than half a metre to the child.

Tom was desperate to help him and at the same time completely confused by what was happening around him. He had never seen such a – thing – such a force field before. And certainly not radiating off a small child's chest. Again and again he tried to get hold of the kid but felt pushed back.

_I only want to help you! _He thought. _Please! Let me help you!_

Over and over he stretched out his hands and slowly, very slowly he felt the energy decrease which was pushing him back. Harry had his eyes still closed, his body was rigid and blood from his head wound was soaking his shirt.

Suddenly Tom felt the drag vanish. Immediately the boy's body relaxed and he fell. Hasting forward he managed to grab Harry's shoulders to keep him from hitting his head on the ground.

_Why did I leave you alone? _Tom blamed himself. _This is my entire fault!_

Holding the unconscious boy in his arms he felt blood from his wound wet his chest, dampening his own shirt. Glancing around for a second Tom carefully lay Harry onto the ground and tore a sleeve of his shirt off, wrapping the elastic fabric around the boy's head to stop the bleeding.

_We need an ambulance now! _Tom thought, but then he halted. _What had happened with that boy? What was this weird power he had displayed? How could he possibly have sent his uncle (assumedly that person was his uncle as Tom figured) flying across the lawn for a couple of feet, regarding his size and his uncle's mass. The balance of forces was so off, he shouldn't even have been able to hinder that person for a second, no matter what he had done. _

Tom needed to decide quickly and he had to act now. He picked up the boy and held him close to his chest, arms wrapped around his fragile body. Looking at Petunia he saw that Vernon was already conscious again and apart from being obviously badly shaken, he displayed no visible injuries. His face had adapted a nasty shade of purple and he tried to scramble to his feet, ready to charge any second. Desperately Petunia tried to grab his arm, forcing him back down onto the lawn.

'THIS FREAK HAS DONE IT NOW, THIS WAS ONCE TOO OFTEN!' he hollered. 'LET GO OF ME I'LL KILL HIM!'

With tears running down her cheeks Petunia pleadingly looked at Tom.

'Please you have to take him away NOW!'

Feeling torn between leaving the woman and keeping the kid in reach of that man he decided that the need to take care of the boy's injuries was more pressing. Yanking open the co-driver's door he placed Harry inside once more, fastened his seatbelt and slammed the door shut. Hastening around the car he got in, started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, regarding the bizarre scene one last brief moment before speeding away. The man had tried to run after him for a couple of metres, having shaken off his wife who sat desperately sobbing on the ground now.

_Hopefully she will be alright, _Tom thought. He had to check on her. But not now.

_What the hell had just happened? Had the man just screamed that – once too often – it had happened before? What did they know about the kid and about his abilities? What did they mean? _

Ravaging his mind Tom weighed up his options. _He could bring the boy into the emergency care of his former hospital and have him thoroughly checked and taken care of. But due to his head injury they would x-ray him and possibly perform a CAT scan. What if anything that had just happened with the boy, this strange force field, was detected by the instruments? He had never seen anything like this before in his entire life and the boy would find himself subjected to endless tests, screenings and possibly never be left alone anymore once that – whatever it was – was discovered. _

Although feeling much shaken by the uncertainty of the skills the boy had displayed, he decided to give him a chance and find out about this when there was time – not now – not in a way that drew attention to them and maybe alerted officials. He needed to keep them out of this!

Only a couple of minutes had passed when he pulled into his driveway and got out of the car, carefully carrying the boy inside his house. He placed him on his couch and hurried to get his doctor's case. Although it wasn't the best equipment and probably his surgery would have been a better place to take care of the kid's injuries, this was the best he had and it would serve the purpose. He always kept it for an emergency: You never knew what happened around the house with two wild kids.

After checking the boy's vital signs he removed the makeshift head bandage and cleaned the wound with a sterile cloth. It had ceased bleeding. Dabbing at it with the cloth, he felt immensely relieved, seeing that most of the blood that had spluttered across the boy's face came off. The actual wound seemed to be a small cut. He praised himself for keeping a certain amount of fibrin glue in his case as this was the easiest way to quickly close wounds which didn't require stitches.

Head injuries usually looked nastier than they actually turned out to be. But you never knew if there was any internal damage done to the brain. Checking the boy's pupils with a small torch he was relieved to see that they were at the same size. At least this was a sign against internal bleeding and more severe brain injuries. Probably it was only a concussion, but he needed to keep an eye on those symptoms, feeling guilty that he didn't take him to the hospital right away.

As he was just about to change his mind, the boy stirred a little and lifted his hands, trying to cover his face.

'Harry can you hear me?'

'Uuuuh'

'Harry look at me.'

Slowly the boy opened his eyes and looked at Tom for a second, then his face twisted. He managed to force out a _'sick'_ as he started rolling his eyes. Luckily there had been a waste bin in reach which Tom quickly placed in front of Harry - not one second too early - and kept his couch from being ruined by mere luck.

Once the boy looked up again he repeated

'Harry can you see me?'

_Nod._

'How many fingers am I holding up with my left hand?'

'Six?'

_Sigh. _

'How do you feel?'

'Mmmm sick.. an dizzy. My head is hurting so much.'

Carefully Tom held Harry's face with his hands, cupping his cheeks, and pushed him gently back down to lie on the couch.

'Don't move and relax. I will give you something to make it better. Close your eyes if you start to feel sick again.'

Extracting an injection from his case he gave the boy a shot to lessen the pain and stabilise his system. Only a few moments passed for it to take effect, clearly relaxing the boy. He took some medical strips and put them onto the laceration he had just glued.

Once he was done and put his case away again, Tom sat down next to the kid, still lying on his couch, tranquilised by the shot he had been given. He looked at the multiple bruises on his face and carefully touched the boy's cheeks with his fingers, anger welling up once more in his chest. He felt tears sting his eyes and rubbed them away with his thumbs, running his fingers through his hair. With a deep sigh he let go and grabbed Harry's unharmed hand.

'Harry how do you feel now?'

'Soo...tiired' he mumbled.

'Are you still feeling sick?'

'Little..'

'Does it hurt anywhere else?'

'Always does... sooo tired lemme sleep pleaaaaase.'

The boy hadn't even opened his eyes again. With a sigh Tom stood up and regarded the blood-soaked shirt he was still wearing. Making sure that Harry was not going to fall off the couch, Tom left the living room and headed for the bathroom, grabbed a flannel and dampened it with warm water. He then fetched one of Sam's t-shirts and returned to the living room.

Checking that the he was only sleeping and not unconscious, he lifted the boy's chest up and struggled to pull his shirt over his head. Intrigued by the unexpected roughness on the boy's back he leaned Harry against his chest to take a look at it. It was littered with bruises and cuts which had scabbed by now but looked like some had bled recently for the scabbing had rubbed off.

Feeling seriously sick by now, Tom finally succeeded in pulling the damp t-shirt off the boy. _You can't help the boy if you lose your temper now, _he had to tell himself, barely able to control his anger as he spotted more fingerprint-shaped bruises on Harry's upper arm. Putting the shirt aside he washed off the blood which had penetrated the fabric and smeared all across the boy's chest. As he pulled the dry and clean shirt over Harry's head he stirred a little, lifting his hands to protect his throat. With eyes still closed he started to mumble again.

'No.. hoo.. nommy fault.. pleaseno. Wasn't bad... don strangle me pleeease.'

Unable to withstand the flood of emotions Tom tried to gulp back a sob but failed miserably. Quickly pulling the shirt down and letting go of the boy again he saw him immediately relax. He must have felt the warmth and dryness of his new shirt for he started stroking it with his hands carefully before rolling onto his side. Drawing up his knees to his chest and huddling his head against his hands, he muttered another few incomprehensible words before he finally fell asleep.

Grabbing the blanket close to the couch Tom covered the slumbering boy and sat down in front of him, gently stroking his hair as he had done so many times with his own kids. Silently tears ran down his cheeks as he kept brushing a strand of hair out of the boy's face, more to calm himself than the boy who was by now – fully exhausted and drugged and – probably oblivious to any touch at all.

As he finally calmed down a guilty pang hit his heart – his own kids were still at the Gregory's.

Rising he made his way to the telephone. _What a lousy day. _

The phone only rang twice before it was picked up.

'Tom?'

'I. Am. So. Sorry.'

'What happened?'

'Hard to explain right now. Harry had some trouble at home.'

'He wasn't allowed to stay, was he?'

'A little more difficult than that I fear.'

'It has been an hour. We told the kids that you probably had an emergency.'

'Yes, in a way it was. Can they stay at your place for tonight? I had to take the boy with me, he is here right now and I can't really leave him alone.'

_Silence._

'Oh of course. You know we wouldn't let you down. We'll take care of it.'

_Silence._

'Tom?'

'Mh?'

'I know you are blaming yourself right now and you know that you shouldn't. Your kids understand that their Dad has a difficult job where an emergency can pop up any second and ruin all plans for the night.'

'Still they shouldn't have to put up with that.'

'We will take care of them. Actually we started a little round of ludo a while ago to bridge the time gap. I'll explain to Sam and Mary Lou, they won't fret. I promise.'

'I can't ever repay you for your help. Thank you so much.'

'Don't worry. It's okay. Well, take care of your little guest then, I believe a certain person over here is getting anxious for me to complete my turn.'

With that she hung up, leaving Tom with a mixed feeling of gratitude, pride and guilt. Holding his hands to his face for another moment he took a deep breath and sat down in the chair next to the couch. He wanted to stay awake, make sure that the boy was alright. He wouldn't leave him again.

He only wanted to rest his eyes for a second but the day's events were finally catching up to him. With a sigh he leaned his head which felt so heavy now against the backrest of the chair and fell asleep immediately.

x x x

Hope you enjoyed, if you did please make an effort and review.


	8. Worlds Collide

**Chapter 8: Worlds Collide**

_**Disclaimer/AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. I do not make any money with this. I do this for fun. Hope you enjoy

_**Warnings: **_Nothing specific

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 8 - Worlds Collide**

Tom jerked awake when he heard a resounding knock from the front door. Glancing at his watch he wondered if in fact the Dursleys had changed their mind and had come to claim their nephew. But no, they didn't even know where he lived.

As the knocking grew louder Tom stood up, regarding once more the little boy who had crawled into a little ball, tightly clutching to the blanket he had been covered with. He continually mumbled and muttered incomprehensible words and syllables. Seeing the little guy stirring restlessly he had thought about giving him some medicine to help him sleep. On the other hand natural sleep was the best way to recover and he didn't want to wake him up again now that Harry had finally settled – as best as he could at least.

Tom had been certain that this day couldn't possibly become any weirder, but as he opened the door and saw this old, grey-bearded man with long robes and a very – wilful – hat, he changed his mind.

'Err...how can I help you?'

'Are you Dr. Tom Connor?'

_Nod. _

'And your name is?'

'Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore...'

'I see...Mr. Dumbledore. And who are you?'

'Oh forgive me. This I fear is a little harder to explain. I knew Harry's parents and I have known him since he was a baby. Upon their death I placed Harry in his relative's care. Unfortunately I learnt that this.. arrangement.. is not current anymore. Maybe we could go inside and have a little talk?'

With a sigh Tom nodded his head. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved now that someone who seemed to have inside knowledge came to speak to him. Someone who might be able to clear up his confusion which had lingered all day and only been overshadowed by his complete exhaustion as the night proceeded. On the other hand – what was he going to say?

He had practically kidnapped the boy, he hadn't brought him to a hospital or informed any authorities for that matter. Also this person really looked a little quaint – to say the least. Tom surely was quite open-minded when it came to people, but this man's appearance certainly was something even he judged to be outstanding. And if he really had placed the boy in his relative's care, why hadn't he intervened before? Surely he must have checked on the boy now and then. He could not possibly have been that oblivious to Harry's miserable family life if he cared about the boy at all!

_Well there is only one way to find out,_ Tom thought and with a mix of distrust and curiosity he asked the old man to step inside.

'I believe Harry is here now?'

'Yes. He fell asleep after all. He is in the living room. Maybe we should sit in the kitchen to have a talk. I wouldn't want to wake him now that he is finally resting.'

Nodding his head thoughtfully, Albus replied

'Yes. I believe that is a very good idea. May I see him first?'

'Certainly.'

Signalling the old man to follow, Tom led him into his living room and stopped a metre away from the boy. He watched closely as the stranger walked up to the kid and gently reached out towards him with his hand, yet he didn't quite touch him as if afraid to hurt him. The signs of abuse were obvious.

Looking extremely saddened the man kept stroking his beard as if lost in thought, studying the boy for another moment. Then he turned around to face Tom again and nodded.

Understanding the gesture Tom walked back into the hallway and led his visitor into the kitchen where he offered him a seat.

'Can I offer you a cup of tea?'

'Thanks that would be lovely.'

Fetching two tea cups and preparing the drinks, Tom wasn't sure if he should wait for the stranger to start with his account or if he was expected to explain why he had abducted the boy. Placing the tea on the table and sitting down next to his guest, he took a deep breath.

'Maybe I need to explain something here first.'

'I believe you took the boy away with you without contacting the authorities whatsoever?'

'Well you see...' Tom wanted to explain but was interrupted by the hand Albus was now holding up to silence him.

'...without contacting the authorities whatsoever. And for that I am very thankful.'

_What? _

'By now you will have noticed that Harry is indeed a very special young boy with special abilities. I understand that you had a very troublesome day, but maybe I can help you clarify on some aspects that you certainly would find... _confusing?_ If you still feel the necessity to ask any questions afterwards, feel free to do so.'

Tom only nodded, curious about what was to come. Taking his drink with both his hands, he embraced the warm cup, took a sip and leaned back, awaiting his visitor to begin with his account.

'You see. There are a lot of things to this world that cannot be seen with the mere eye. Most of them darkle because people do not pay attention to them. They would probably notice if they tried, but they do not bother. But a few things remain hidden and are only apparent to persons who have special abilities and therefore the capacity to recognise them. Some other people might notice, but they will try to find explanations for the unexplainable, they remain confused and try to ignore what they have seen.'

'You mean like I? Like today?' Tom asked, feeling very uneasy. His curiosity was clearly aroused by that beginning, yet he found himself even more bewildered than before. Sloshing the tea in his cup around a little, he waited for his guest to continue.

'Yes. You experienced something very unsettling today. But obviously you didn't jump to hasty conclusions and you didn't contact the authorities. Why didn't you do that?'

'Well.' Tom felt the urge to justify his actions although the old man had even approved of his doing and told him so before. 'You know, I was confused about what had happened to Harry, what he had done. And what I...felt. I guess I wanted to protect him. I thought if his abilities were discovered he would be subjected to a lot of tests or other things which would surely not be in his best interests. I didn't want this to happen. He has already suffered so much.'

Albus nodded and then smiled at Tom.

'You wanted to protect him, although what you have experienced must have been frightening. You are very open-minded and this is why I want to talk to you now, ease your confusion, and help you understand what cannot be explained but only taken as it is. Are you ready for that?'

'Well I guess so.' Tom shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat and placed his teacup on the table again, interlaced his fingers and leaned back. Once he seemed settled, Albus continued.

'Do you believe in magic?'

'Err..'

Clearly taken aback by this unexpected question Tom didn't know how to answer. He immediately thought of the magicians at the circus or on TV and, looking at Dumbledore's clothing and hat, pondered if he was in fact trying to tell him that he was one of those.

Guessing Tom's thoughts, Albus smiled genuinely and shook his head lightly.

'You see there is magic – which you could also consider to be the mastery of illusion. Quite entertaining at times I must admit. But then there is also _magic_, a power within witches and wizards which enables them to perform truly outstanding things. Things that cannot be explained with logic. Things you cannot reason out – such as Harry did today.'

Giving his perplexed listener a moment to let his words sink in, Albus took a sip of his tea as well.

'So you are actually trying to tell me that Harry is a wizard?'

'Yes.'

'This shockwave he produced – was magic. _Magic_?'

'Yes. But having said this I must add that this was no ordinary magic, it was very powerful and strong and not controllable for him at this stage. I dare to assume that he must have experienced something so grave that his unconsciousness took over and tried to keep him safe. Can you tell me what happened?'

Rubbing his tired eyes with his hands, Tom regarded Albus, trying to sum up the day's events.

'I was inside the house at that time and talking to Mrs. Dursley. You see my kids and Harry met on the playground today and they invited him for dinner at a friend's place. They take care of my kids when I am at work. When I came to pick them up I met him and wanted to give him a lift home. I already met him before when he came to my surgery the day before with his aunt and cousin. Certain...suspicions...were raised by his behaviour and confirmed when I tried to talk to Harry in the car tonight.

While we drove back I told him that I needed to talk to his relatives and wanted him to stay in the car. I talked to Mrs. Dursley for a while, which was very futile by the way, until we heard this nasty scream. I ran outside and saw Harry sitting on the ground, bleeding. He looked apathetic. Well, before he started screaming again that was: as if he was oblivious to what was happening around him. By that time his uncle already lay several feet away from him on the lawn. As I understand this you say that Harry's unconsciousness overruled his conscious actions.

But how could it be that he then controlled this 'force field'? I sensed it, I couldn't get through. And it felt like he was only slowly lowering his guard until I could reach him. Afterwards he lost consciousness immediately.'

Tom finished and studied his visitor, who seemed upset by his account. He was holding his cup of tea firmly and shook his head lightly. Tom gave him a questioning look whereupon Albus proceeded.

'You must understand that the kind of magic Harry performed today is not very common. Actually it has never been performed by anyone his age. Even children that are older than him and quite capable of understanding their abilities have not managed to create such a sphere before, and certainly not unintentionally.'

_Silence._

'So you are saying that Harry isn't even aware of the fact that he has performed magic?'

'No. Sadly his relatives – although informed – chose not to throw any light on this issue and entertained his misconception that his accidental magic which I am sure was showing before at some stage was something... abnormal.'

Tom recalled the boy's uncle calling him a 'freak' and shook his head lightly, unable to understand what motivation they had had to let the child suffer so much. Albus sympathetically smiled at him, sharing his sadness.

'So is he the only one?'

Albus shook his head, smiling reassuringly at Tom who looked still quite uncertain.

'No. There are many wizards and witches around. You would be surprised. But as I tell you this, it is highly unusual that - forgive me – a non-magical person such as you would be told, not being akin to Harry. But considering this very unfortunate family situation and your considerate actions, you appear to be one of the few persons Harry seems to trust at the moment and I need you to understand a couple of things in order to help him. If that is still what you wish to do?'

_Nod._

'You must understand that things people do not understand frighten them. Therefore we try to remain hidden in order to protect ourselves and our children. Usually magical abilities peak at the age of eleven for the first time. It is then when children are admitted to Hogwarts.'

'Hogwarts?' Tom looked incredulously at his visitor.

'It is a school for witches and wizards. There they learn how to control their abilities. We nurture their talents and provide a safe environment for them to experience their gift. And I fear this is why I have to take Harry away.'

'Away?' His heart sank at that.

'Usually it is not necessary to take children out of their normal school life before they reach the age of eleven because the accidental magic they might display up to that point is marginal. But somehow Harry's unconsciousness is pushing him beyond control. He must have experienced quite a few things that he found very unsettling. Therefore his magical potential built up inside him until it was released - such as what happened tonight. I cannot explain this incident differently I fear.'

At this point Tom felt anger rising up inside. Unable to withhold his emotions he snapped

'Unsettling experiences you call this? The boy has been beaten. Badly. And I don't even want to know how long this has been going on. If you cared so much about him, why didn't you come to get him before? Pretend you didn't know?'

Placing his cup in front of him gently, Albus started stroking his beard again. For a moment, a dull look lingered on his face before he looked at Tom and took a deep breath.

'I have made a grave mistake. I cannot reveal the reasons to you, but I will try to explain. Upon the death of Harry's parents he had no one left to look after him, protect him. It was immensely important that he stayed with family. I placed him in the care of his uncle and aunt who, at that time, were already raising their own boy. I felt very uneasy doing this, yet there was no other way. Years passed and although Harry grew older, his family didn't treat him as if he was their own child; but I fear I never dared to hope that they would. A friend of mine who lives in the neighbourhood had an eye on him but she never noticed anything...unusual. I should have noticed but I didn't. Therefore it is I who is entirely to blame for this.'

Tom was clearly upset by now. Working his fingers through his hair he held that back of his head for a while before dropping his hands again on the table, fixing his gaze upon his visitor.

'Don't you understand? This isn't about guilt. It's about the boy. He has suffered horribly and he needs to deal with that. He is emotionally upset. Very upset. I am not a psychologist but I can assure you he needs help to work through this. I talked to him and I can tell you, he needs help soon or further damage will be done.'

Albus nodded, still looking very aggrieved.

'If I understand you correctly you have already talked to him about his ... experiences?'

'Well I wouldn't say that he talked about it. I had a suspicion and this suspicion was confirmed. I confronted him and he was so shaken, he admitted to the abuse. Although, it left him in a worse mental state than before I fear. And that's exactly why he needs help!'

Albus nodded, feeling very reminded of a talk that had taken place between Severus and him so many years ago.

'Yes, I agree that he does need help. But you need to consider his display of magic. A – forgive me – ordinary psychologist – would clearly be unfitting to work through this with him. He doesn't even know what has happened to him, maybe he doesn't even know that he did it himself.'

'So you are saying his unconsciousness is protecting him by using powers within him to help him cope with a situation he could not handle otherwise?

'Yes. Harry is unaware of his powers and uses them unconsciously for he perceived the grave danger around him. If he does not learn to control this power now it is very dangerous for him, and could even be life threatening. Imagine what would have happened to him if you hadn't managed to reach him tonight. Maybe he would have perpetuated his shield until he had no energy left, none at all.'

Tom leaned his head into his hand, elbow on the kitchen table. This had certainly been enough trouble for one night. Yet this person only seemed to add to his misery rather than clearing it up. He felt so helpless. He had done everything he could to help the boy and now he was told that – although he was the only trustee the boy had – due to his lack of magical abilities, simply not qualified.

Surely this mind-blowing story made sense – in a way. But Tom wasn't ready to accept it yet.

'How did you even get to know about it when you were at, how did you call it?'

'Hogwarts?'

'Yes. How could you possibly have known and come here so quickly?'

'Understand that my contact with the Dursleys has been very...limited. As of today, I had only received one letter from Petunia – quite an unusual act in itself. Upon reading this letter, I decided to talk to her immediately. Yet I fear I didn't manage to get to the root of things. She is in a very difficult situation and I did not want to add any further pressure to her at the moment. After I left Petunia this afternoon I was very concerned what could have possibly happened to upset her so. I returned to Hogwarts to think of another way to approach her, without adding further to her own pain.

You could say I was forewarned in a way when I received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic which informed me of an Act of Underage Magic.'

At this Albus received a clearly confused look from his listener.

'Magic can be a dangerous thing when not controlled properly. The Ministry of Magic ensures that our world as well as the non-magical stays protected. You see, magic that is performed doesn't pass unnoticed. Especially with the younger ones we have to be very careful. As for this boy – not living with his parents anymore he does not have anyone with magical abilities around him. His relatives neither understand nor control his magic and therefore I am responsible and to be contacted if need arises. And so it did this evening. I was informed of that 'shockwave' as you called it and was able to convince those responsible at the Ministry that it was a clear act of self defence. As soon as I had cleared the issue I returned to Little Whinging where I found Petunia and her husband who was now well again and inside the house.'

Tom kept scratching his ear, holding on to the fang. Usually it helped him think.

'So how did you find me?'

'I managed to talk to Petunia. She told me who you were and from that point it was an easy matter to find you. I left immediately to come and see you.'

Still Tom wasn't satisfied.

'What about Harry's uncle? Will he be prosecuted? He can't get away with this abuse. It's just not right!'

'I understand your point and believe me, I do intend to pursue this matter. But please keep in mind what I have told you tonight. We cannot call in local authorities in this matter. There would be investigations and at some point, sooner or later, they would stumble across those unsettling things which you experienced today. Believe me, Harry needs to be protected from this or further harm will be done to him. But we will take care of it.

Albus regarded the man who sat opposite to him and who was clearly upset by the injustice about to be done. _This is so unfair,_ Tom thought.

'What about them then? The Dursleys know that I have taken Harry away. What am I supposed to do if they come to me?'

'Well,' Albus continued. 'Petunia had asked you to take the boy with you I believe. Although they might not have been on best terms she clearly saw the need for you to protect him as she couldn't tonight. Regarding her husband, he has been – taken care of. His memory has been altered. As for now he believes that his nephew is at a friend's place, and he cannot recollect today's events.'

'At a friend's place?'

'Yes.'

'And he just believes that?'

'I understand that you might find this very upsetting, but magic is a very powerful matter and harbours immense power that goes beyond the grasp of men.'

As Tom still looked a little disbelieving, Albus pointed towards his shirt. Apart from the sleeve that he had ripped off to produce a makeshift bandage it had been soaked with the boy's blood. He hadn't noticed. With a swing of Albus' fingertip all blood vanished and a new sleeve attached itself to his shirt.

Running his fingers over his mended shirt Tom marvelled at his visitor.

'So it's really true?'

'I believe so.' Albus smiled genuinely.

'What will happen to Harry then?'

'This is indeed a very difficult matter.' Taking another sip from his tea he regarded Tom and continued.

'I will talk to a close friend of mine tomorrow. He is capable of taking the boy in. His magical abilities, specifically regarding powers that are solely mind-controlled, are outstanding. If Harry happens to perform accidental magic again, I would blame myself if I hadn't put the best qualified person with him who could aid him and take care of him if need arises. He will make sure that Harry doesn't harm himself until he learns how to control his power.'

Tom was getting frustrated and the hurt that had lingered in his heart all evening was growing even greater. _Why did this man have to take Harry away? Now? When he had finally managed to talk to him, get him to open up, at least a little bit. When he had thought that the boy finally started to trust him._

'And because this – accidental magic – can happen at any time, he has to stay with him continually?'

'I am afraid so. At least at first, I need to be able to observe his progress. If it is safe for him, and he has reached an understanding of his magical abilities, as soon as he is able to protect himself I would be happy for him to come back here at times if you do not object?'

Pressure was building up behind Tom's eyes by now.

'Don't you get it? Harry is afraid and feels lost. From what you are telling me he has been forsaken all his life and now when he finally talks to me – to anyone for that matter – you jerk him out of this to place him with yet another stranger? Don't you get what this will do to him?'

Very saddened by this words Albus tried to think of a way to make this young man understand.

'I can understand your concern and I appreciate it very much. And it aggrieves me that I cannot suggest another option. But maybe you can help me to mentally prepare Harry for this transition. Maybe it will make it easier on him this way when someone familiar to him explains it?'

_That's just not fair! _Tom thought. _He starts to trust me and now the person who takes all that away from him is supposed to be the one he talked to in the first place! _Annoyed, Tom looked at Albus.

'You realise that he probably won't trust anybody again after all once he learns that he has to live with some strangers now that he finally talked? He might even think it is his fault!'

'And this is exactly the reason why you have to talk to him. He probably wouldn't listen to anybody else I fear. This is a very unfortunate situation and it troubles me that I cannot do more for you. Of course if you object I will not expect you to talk to Harry and will handle it myself.'

_Now that's convenient isn't it?_ Tom thought. _No matter how I decide it will be a lousy situation!_

Upon the questioning look Albus gave him, he sighed deeply and rubbed his tired eyes with his fingers.

'No, it's okay. I will do it.'

_Silence._

'When do you think he will be ready?'

'Tomorrow evening, I guess it will not be possible any earlier. He needs to get his belongings from his relative's place and I want to make sure that we talked properly before he leaves. Will you ... arrange... something to pick him up?'

Albus thought for a while. It would be hard on the boy no matter how they did it, therefore he reckoned it would be best to get over with it quick and easy.

'I will have him picked up tomorrow by 6 p.m. Does this suit you?'

'I guess so.' _As if I had a choice!_

With a nod Albus stood up and headed for the front door, followed by his host.

'Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Connor. Please accept my sincerest apologies regarding this. It is a very unfortunate situation and you should not have been put into it.'

_Silence._

'Until tomorrow then.'

And with that he shut the door determinedly. Turning around he leaned against the front door, running his fingers through his hair. Tears ran down his cheeks and the pressure behind his eyes which had been building up all evening finally started to cease.

_Don't apologise to me, _he thought. _Apologise to the boy._

x x x

_How dare he do this to him? _

Severus was pacing up and down in his living room. Clenching his fists he couldn't decide what to do first. Many things were ravaging his mind and he felt quite helpless, trying in vain to sort out this confusion. Glancing at his watch he started to grow uneasy. _Only two hours left. How am I supposed to do this? _

This was not the turn he had expected his weekend to take. Not that it looked quite so different from the rest of his week during the school holidays though. He had prepared a few things here and there and he had read a lot of new books. Nothing out of the ordinary but that's how he liked it. It was calm and peaceful, foreseeable and therefore controllable.

He had been intrigued by the casual greeting the headmaster had offered as he had popped his face through the fire in his study an hour ago, asking if he could – briefly – come over and have a little talk with him. _He should have flat out denied it. But how was he supposed to know! _

A quarter of an hour had passed, yet he hadn't managed to calm down. _This was ridiculous! _He ran his fingers through his hair, stopping halfway, holding on to his head, tightening the grip as he closed his eyes. _Why now? _

Long forgotten emotions had welled up in his heart, emotions he had shut out, locked away securely – and for a good reason that had been! It had taken long not to feel the hurt anymore, to shut it out for good. Not to _feel_ anymore at all. This had never been what he had wished for. But it had been... bearable. And here the headmaster came, serenely smiling at him as if asking to join him for dinner, presenting him with that burden. Nicely wrapped, of course, in the beguiling garment of a question. _As if he had been given a choice! _

x x x

'I wouldn't ask you if there was another way, believe me, Severus.'

'No Headmaster, I cannot do this.'

'My boy, do not make the mistake and take him for James.'

'It is impossible! I cannot do it.'

A knot had formed in his stomach as Severus kept pacing in his living room, unable to remain still for even a brief moment. Each time he passed the headmaster he felt the urge to glare at him accusingly but refrained from doing so. He didn't want to show him how upset he was (although it probably wouldn't have made a difference to anyone who saw him walking up and down there).

Albus had seated himself quietly in the chair that had been offered to him and tilted his head lightly now._ Why did the boy have to struggle so much? He was so deeply hurt. But there was no other way. He had given a promise and he was not planning on forsaking it. _

'Do not think of James here. Think of Lily.'

_Don't you DARE manipulate me, _Severus thought_. _He did think of Lily. And that was what made it so difficult! He just couldn't bear the pain.

'I CAN. NOT. DO IT.'

'Severus.'

_Sigh. _

'I know your heart is in the right place, as are your loyalties.'

_He didn't just play the loyalty-card?_

'Headmaster, surely you would never question my loyalty. It has never since changed. You know that.'

'Oh, my boy. Of course I do. I know.'

_Silence. _

Albus hated himself for having to do this. He felt that the boy he knew so long, so well, would never willingly submit to what he had asked of him. It hurt his heart to see him struggle so and even more so having to force him now by appealing to his loyalty. He knew that Severus' pride wouldn't allow him to deny the headmaster's request once his loyalty was being questioned (or not for that matter).

For now he would have to accept it. Time was pressing and things had to be sorted quickly, in due course they would sit down and talk again. _Maybe he has managed to open his heart towards Harry by then, _Albus thought, but didn't dare hope. _If he only understood that I want to help him! This is a second chance...why can't he see it? _

Albus was struggling with how to approach his beloved Potions Master with the request (which in fact was rather an act of informing him about the where and whens of a matter that already had been decided long ago). From the instant he had received Petunia's letter he had feared things to take this turn. He had pondered how to approach Severus, how to make the decision easy on him. But no matter how long he had entertained the thought, a simple solution had refused to present itself.

_Why can't he let go of it and forgive himself?_ Albus thought. _He hasn't changed. He is still the little boy I saw so many years ago. Who was used to hurt and pain, who shut out the complete outside world and would let no one in – I had to force him to talk, enable him to open up, help the boy before he was devastated by what was happening to him! _

In a moment of desperate hurt a young Severus had come to him, bruised and scared. He had sobbed and cried in utter desperation, not understanding what he had done wrong and Albus had not allowed him to go before he had been better – at least for the moment. Yet he had clearly been ashamed of his fear and although Albus continued to willingly offer his help, the boy had refused henceforth, choosing hurt and pain over his so-perceived weakness.

There had been single bright spots in Severus' life – Lily surely being one of them. But his heart had been troubled. Clouded with hurt, caused by things he wasn't responsible for, he made wrong choices. In an attempt to seek strength and acceptance he had turned to the Dark to flee from an unbearable life. Quickly he experienced that nothing had changed for the better: quite contrary, his life had been demoted from misery to hell. All his life he had been told that he was worthless and accepted it. But once Lily turned on him he truly felt forsaken, without any more reason to love, to live. It had been his wrong decision that had driven Lily away from him and he was responsible for it, willing to bear the painful consequences and gladly doing so in a futile attempt to overrule the numbness that had lingered in his heart henceforth.

_Curious how the cycle of violence not only affects the course of a day, or a week, but a whole life, _Albus thought. _Please forgive me for doing this to you. It is for your own good. You will find out eventually. But Harry needs you now. And you need him. _

And with a sigh Albus decided to put an end to the awkward moment and settle things for the time being as time was a pressing issue right now. Steeling himself he cleared his throat audibly until he was sure to have Severus' attention who stopped pacing and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eying the headmaster with a neutral expression.

'Regard this as a purely necessary matter then. I know you will never abandon my trust and I need you to make preparations as I instructed. I will be returning tonight with the boy.'

And with that he stood up, raising his hand as Severus attempted to get up in an act of courtesy.

'Don't worry, I will find my way. You have a lot of things to do now.'

And with that he left without looking back, forcing himself not to turn around, not to offer kind words, not to explain. This was not the time he could offer the boy a choice.

_He needs to do this, _Albus thought. _If I don't leave him a choice, at least he has someone to blame other than himself. Hopefully it will spare the boy at least a little bit of guilt. __Eventually he will understand. _

x x x


	9. Forsaken

**Chapter 9: Forsaken**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this, I do this purely for fun. Hope you enjoy. I thought I'd treat you with an early update and this chapter is quite long too! You might wanna repay me with a review ;-) Have fun reading.

Thanks for your devoted betaing and putting up with me Jas!

_**Warnings: **_Memory of child abuse

**Please Come For Me – Chapter 9 – Forsaken**

Harry hadn't slept well. Weird images kept popping up in his head as he had dreamt incomprehensible and disturbing things. He was hurting and felt exhausted. Everything was still blurred when he opened his eyes. Rubbing at them, he tried to take in his surroundings. _Where was he?_

He was lying on a comfortable couch, covered with a blanket. Rolling onto his stomach he recognised Tom who was sitting in a chair next to the couch. His head was leaned into his hand, elbow on the armrest, eyes closed. His hair was ruffled but apart from that he looked quite peaceful.

Slowly, memories started to come back to Harry, accompanied by a feeling that left his stomach painfully twisted. _He knows, _Harry thought. _I told him and then he left me alone. He said everything was going to be alright, but he left and then Uncle Vernon came!_

The feeling in his stomach only worsened as the memories continually became more vivid; yet he couldn't remember everything. _Uncle Vernon was so mad... I must have blacked out. And now I am here, _Harry pondered. _If Tom left me alone, why did he take me back here then? He promised nothing would happen anymore but it did. It always gets worse when people say that! Why am I such an idiot and believe what everybody says? They lie to me all the time, I just don't get it. _

Tears started welling up in Harry's eyes. He began to feel confused and angry because he couldn't remember what had happened in between the bits and pieces he had figured out by now. Unconsciously he grabbed his forehead with his right hand and ran his fingertip over the glued laceration. _That feels...weird, _he thought.

Harry wiped his nose with his left hand, stifling a sniff and tried to get up. _He probably doesn't want me here anyway. _Tracing the edge of his glued injury again he thought. _It must have looked really bad so he took me with him, he is a doctor, he had to! Even if he didn't want to. Right? _

Rising too quickly, Harry felt a hammering pain inside his head and his vision blurred once more. Swaying dangerously he tried to grab hold of anything to keep him from falling. He stumbled towards the dining table attempting to hang on to it for a second to regain his balance. The tablecloth he had grasped withstood his weight – for a brief moment. With a shattering noise a drinking glass that had been placed on top of it fell to the ground and broke into several pieces, covered by the linen that now lay on top of the mess. Having lost his hold, Harry fell backwards and crashed into the couch which eased his fall.

Tom had been tired and restless, upset by the conversation he'd had with the strange old man last night. So many things had been running through his mind, confusion battling severely with curiosity and plain perplexity. Resuming his observer's position in the chair close to the couch he had made sure that the boy was resting. He wondered how he could possibly approach Harry and talk to him about the impending transition when he was being jerked out of his sleepy state by the sudden noise. Tom glanced at his watch and noticed that it was already past midday. Had he really slept that long? He had been so weary.

Taking a quick look around he saw that Harry had scrambled to his knees again and desperately tried to pick up pieces of glass that lay on the floor.

'STOP!' Tom said, a little louder than he had intended to. In fact he had shouted it.

Harry jerked violently at the sudden unexpected approach and widened his eyes fearfully as Tom hurried towards him and picked him up, turned around and placed him on the couch. Tears welled up in the boy's eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

'I didn't mean to' he started babbling. 'Please..I just...lost my balance... I never wanted to break it...I...'

'Stop it!' Tom was desperate. The child was working himself in a state quickly and all he wanted to do was prevent the kid from cutting himself on the shards. He looked down at the boy who had buried his hands underneath his thighs, eyes downcast, looking properly ashamed and scared.

'Harry look at me.'

_Silence._

With the familiar gesture Tom lifted Harry's chin with two fingers until their gazes locked.

'Calm down. Breathe.'

Guessing what had upset the boy so he continued.

'Harry I am not angry with you. It was an accident. Those things happen.'

'But... but you shouted at me. I thought you were going to...' Harry's face twisted and his voice failed him. Confused and hurt he looked down, only to feel his chin being lifted up again instantly.

'Harry. I am not mad. I wasn't going to hurt you. I just didn't want you to get injured. Those shards can be very, very sharp and cut your hands easily. They can be so small that you don't even see them but still they can injure you. Do you understand?'

The boy nodded hesitantly, two tears spilling down his cheeks.

'I know you wouldn't. It is just that...' again his voice betrayed Harry. Taking a deep breath and feeling two hands cupping his cheeks gently and comforting, he tried again.

'I broke things before, because, because I am so clumsy. And Uncle Vernon got mad.'

'What happened?' Tom figured that he should continue if the boy decided to talk about his experiences, even if it was triggered by this unfortunate accident. Harry couldn't keep bottling up those memories.

'I broke a bowl because it was so heavy. No, I dropped it because I was so stupid and didn't carry it properly.'

Tom wanted to interrupt, but held back. The boy's eyes became glassy as well-suppressed memories came back to him.

x x x

'_What are you waiting for, boy? Need directions to find the dining table?' Vernon sneered at a five-year-old Harry. _

_The boy was carrying a huge bowl full of chocolate pudding. He knew he wasn't going to get any, but he was allowed to serve it and watch hungrily while his overweight cousin would dig in._

_Swaying under the heavy weight of the bowl he carefully tiptoed his way towards the dining table. The bowl was so huge, the boy didn't have a chance to see his cousin's leg being stuck out as he passed his chair. _

_The bowl broke into countless pieces with a great splatter, smearing the floor with pudding. Harry tried to stumble to his feet as his cousin keeled over in his chair from laughing out loud. _

'_Heeeeeeey!' Harry started but in an instant Vernon had closed up on him. His uncle hadn't seen what Dudley had done. Or he simply didn't care. _

'_Uncle Vernon, I didn't...' he wanted to explain that this hadn't been his fault but was spun around and smacked several times. _

'_Oowie Uncle Vernon...' Harry started pleading again while another couple of swats caused his backside to throb painfully. _

'_Why is it you can't do anything right?' Vernon raged angrily, jerking the boy around by his shoulders again. Tears were streaming down Harry's face by now._

'_But...but Dudley tripped me...' Harry was mad. This was so unfair! _

'_He's lying Dad!' Dudley shouted although Vernon hadn't even bothered to look at his son. He grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him towards the remainders of the bowl that lay on the floor. Vernon pushed Harry forward forcefully causing him to stumble and fall into the mess, cutting his hands on the shards. _

_Harry tried to get up but was pushed into the broken glass once more. His palms started bleeding and he felt the shards cut through the legs of his pants. _

'_Don't you dare blame this on Dudley!' Vernon thundered. 'You want to act up, feel free to do so.' With that he raised his hand menacingly awaiting the boy's reaction. To Vernon's disappointment, the boy chose not to act up and started picking up pieces of the broken bowl. _

'_Clean up this mess and get out of my sight. You ruined our pudding! Hope you are happy now that you managed yet again to destroy something nice, idiot.'_

x x x

Harry ran his thumbs across his palms which were still covered by his thighs. It had taken a long time for the microscopic shards to grow out of his hands. He had tried to pick them out of his palms once Vernon had sent him to his room but he had only made it worse. The cuts inflamed and left his hands aching for weeks. But he had learnt not to blame anything on his cousin. It was always his fault.

The face of the child was emotion-stricken as he seemed to remember a particularly painful childhood memory. Yet he had stopped talking. Tom knew better than to pressure Harry into disclosing any memories he wasn't ready to share yet.

'You. Are. Not. Stupid.' He said slowly and profoundly while he stroked the tears away, causing Harry to sob.

'Now show me your hands.'

Harry pressed his thighs tightly onto his hands and refused to let go. He looked at Tom, unable to hide his anxiety.

'You are not angry?' He asked, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

'No.'

'But I... I broke your drinking glass.'

'Don't worry about it. That wasn't my only one.' Tom smiled but failed to cheer up the child. Sighing, he reached for the boy's arms and withdrew them until they were outstretched in front of Harry's chest, palms facing upwards.

Making sure that Harry's hands weren't cut by the shards he looked at him once more, still holding on to the boy's hands for a brief moment.

'Don't move.'

He left for the kitchen to fetch a dustpan and quickly swept together the remainders of his drinking glass. Once he was sure that no shattered glass was left he placed the tablecloth on the dining table again and put the dustpan aside. _What a lousy start to get to talk to the boy,_ he thought.

Turning around again he drew the chair he had slept in closer to the couch and sat down, merely an arm's length away from Harry. The boy still looked apprehensive.

'Harry does your head still hurt?'

'A little.' The answer came hesitantly.

'I will get you some pain reliever in a minute. Do you feel sick?'

Harry tilted his head lightly and closed his eyes for a second. Did he? The painful knot in his stomach was still there, yes. He felt sick. And betrayed. But that was probably not what Tom wanted to know.

'No I don't.' He lied unconvincingly.

'Are you sure?'

_Silence. _

'Yes.'

Tom sighed but tried to hide it from the child. This wasn't going to be easy.

'Harry can you remember what happened last night?'

Again tears welled up in the boy's eyes which caused him to blink more frequently, but he refused to shed them. His face was stricken with emotions and clouded with pain though Tom wasn't sure if he fully understood what was troubling the child so.

'It's okay Harry don't worry. This is not your fault and I am not angry. Yesterday was very traumatizing for you. Do you remember anything at all?'

_What was he talking about?_ Harry suddenly started to feel anger rising in his chest, pushing aside the hurtful memories of last night's events. _You are not angry with me? With ME? It was YOU who said everything was going to be alright and then YOU left me! You lied to me! _Harry wanted to scream at Tom, tell him that he had disappointed him, betrayed his trust. Instead he just said

'No.'

Tom looked at him. The boy said no, but his eyes said differently.

'Harry what is it? Please talk to me.'

'NO I won't!' Harry screamed.

Taken aback by the sudden outburst of the child he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to school his features into a neutral expression.

'I know this is scary Harry, but you need to talk to someone. You cannot just bottle it up, it won't do you any good.'

Unable to withhold his tears any longer, Harry angrily wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and glared at Tom. He was breathing heavily and Tom feared he might start hyperventilating again when Harry finally managed to voice his hurt.

'You lied to me!' He choked.

Confused, Tom studied the little child, trying to think of anything he had said or done that would justify such an outburst.

Obviously further annoyed by Tom's obliviousness Harry repeated

'You lied to me! You said everything was going to be alright and then it just got worse!'

It struck Tom like a fist right across the face. He had been so stupid. How could he not have seen? _I told him he was safe!_ Tom mentally chastised himself. _And then I just left him in my car. I thought both his relatives would be in the house. Who could have expected that to happen?_ He thought. _Well, maybe I should have. _

Crestfallen he rested his forehead in his hands for a moment, then looked at Harry.

'Please forgive me.'

Harry was still angry but this sudden apology startled him. Never before in his life had anybody said such a thing to him! Looking at Tom incredulously the man continued.

'I should never have left you alone in the car. I made a big mistake and I cannot do anything to change yesterday's events. If I could I would do so, gladly. Please believe me, I never wanted to do anything which would harm you further.'

Starting to chew his bottom lip, Harry felt his emotions inside battling again. On the one hand he wanted to believe that Tom had just forsaken him, betrayed him, like everybody did. It would be so much easier to bear the pain if he had. If you knew that no one cared about you it was easier to accept the cruel things they did to you. Nothing hurts quite as much as unkind words - let alone actions - from a person you truly care about. On the other hand, Tom had apologized, hadn't he? And it had felt...sincere.

Sensing the child's distress Tom tried a different approach.

'Harry, you have every right to be angry with me. I don't want to hurt your feelings again. So I won't pressure you into talking to me. But if you feel like it, you can tell me anything you want to. No matter what it is. And I promise you that I will fully accept everything you say.'

_Silence._

'And it will stay between us. Promise.' He added.

'I...I am angry with you.' Harry quietly voiced. Tom didn't interrupt him, he just nodded.

'And... and you.. you lied to me. That really hurt!'

Tears were running down Harry's cheeks again. Tom felt the urge to wipe them away with his thumbs, stroke the boy's head, utter some gentle words, but somehow he couldn't do it right now, afraid that Harry might stop talking. Instead he just looked at him.

'You said everything was going to be alright and I trusted you. I feel so stupid.'

As sobs racked his frame Harry started to fumble with his fingers, looking at his lap. 'I thought you were alright, I wanted to believe what you said. But I was stupid and that's what I get for being stupid.'

Tom's heart felt like it was stabbed at these words. Blinking a little more often than necessary he lifted Harry's chin again and interrupted.

'Harry. You are not stupid. I made the mistake here. This is not your fault.'

'YES IT IS!' The anger was back, but this time Harry wasn't angry with Tom. He was angry with himself for being so naive, so credulous. 'I do stupid things all the time, I am worthless and I can't do a single thing right!'

_Sigh. _

Tom was starting to feel desperate. How was he ever going to convince the boy that this was not his fault? And even worse – tell him that he had to leave him? How could he possibly do that without leaving the boy feeling abandoned and broken?

'Harry do you remember that yesterday night, something happened to your uncle?'

Startled by the abrupt change of topic, Harry started chewing his thumb nail and looked at Tom insecurely, then nodded.

'But you don't know how it happened, do you?'

_Shake._

'Sometimes things happen around you and you can't explain why. Right?'

_Nod._

'Harry. I know this is scary, but it is nothing bad.'

_Yes it is, _Harry thought. _I am a freak. _

'It must be scary not to know why those things happen, but it is NOT a bad thing. It is a gift.'

Harry tilted his head lightly, troubled. Noticing the boy's confusion Tom tried to elaborate.

'Yesterday I left you in the car and that was my fault. I wasn't there when your uncle came back home. He was angry and he tried to hurt you.' _Silence. _'He hurt you. But you were able to protect yourself.'

'I what?' Harry looked incredulously.

'Sometimes things happen and you don't know why. Yesterday you were put into a very, very nasty situation no child should have to cope with. And you were able to protect yourself; your uncle couldn't touch you anymore because you didn't want him to.'

Now Tom was feeling stupid. This was by far the lamest explanation he could have come up with. But he was hesitant to use the word 'magic' or delve too far into this subject. He wasn't the right person to explain this to the boy. He didn't even know himself what exactly had been going on! He just wanted to ease the boy's distress.

'You have a special ability and it does not make you weird or... _freaky. _It makes you a very special little boy. It's a good thing Harry.'

Trying to look very reassuring Tom realised that Harry was not really catching on to it. _Who would!_

'Your head was hurt yesterday. I took you with me to take care of the cut and... your other injuries.'

At this the boy resumed fumbling with his fingers, eyes downcast again. He was clearly embarrassed and Tom fully expected this reaction although it was completely unnecessary. To break the awkward silence, he continued.

'I know it is hard and you thought no one would believe you. But I do. I did even before I saw your uncle. That's why I wanted to help you.'

'But...' Harry looked up at him again. 'Why? Didn't you think I'd lie to you?'

'Why should I think such a thing?'

_Silence. _

Harry didn't even know himself why he had expected Tom to call him a liar. Everybody did. It was always him who wasn't telling the truth once Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon were through with their version of the story.

'You uncle has treated you very badly, Harry. And he should never have done that.'

_Silence._

'You will never go back there again.'

There. He said it. The impact of his words was obvious. Wide-eyed the boy looked at him, stricken with emotions, disbelief clearly dominating.

'Harry.'

_Again he did it, _Harry thought. _How did he always manage to call him by his first name, not making it sound worthless, not feeling disgusted? _

'You had to put up with this for a very long time. It is a shame that no one noticed before, but it is a good thing that now we can talk about this. There is nothing to be gained from hiding and covering up what has happened. You were treated very unfairly and you have every right to be angry, hurt and confused. You feel like you are responsible for everything and have to take care of everything. But that is not the way it is supposed to be. You. Are. Not. Responsible.'

_Silence._

'You are a child. It is your right to grow up happy and safe.'

This had never occurred to Harry. Never in these past eight years had the Dursleys acted like he possessed any rights at all. He had just assumed that this was the way things were supposed to be. Yes, sometimes he felt treated very unfairly. Although he wasn't quite sure about it, he couldn't imagine that other kids were living the way he was. Yet he had always tried to justify what had happened with the only solution that had come to his mind – it was his fault. Countless times had they told him, that _he had made them do it_. Probably you just needed to hear this often enough to start truly believing it.

Realisation started to dawn on Harry's face.

'But were will I go? I don't have any other family left.'

Suddenly several unreadable emotions flashed across Harry's face and he gasped audibly.

'You aren't going to dump me in an orphanage are you?'

Fear was colouring his voice so much it hurt to even listen. Tom looked at the child compassionately. He didn't know about the horror stories the Dursley's had told Harry about orphanages and that he'd be placed there immediately if he chose to 'act up and be stupid'. Dudley had kindled this nightmare by coming up with horrendously detailed descriptions of the miserable orphanage life Harry would surely have – Harry hadn't even considered where Dudley could possibly have gained such inside knowledge. He had just assumed that he was right, and that had scared the hell out of him.

Tom placed his hands on the shoulders of the distressed boy and rubbed little circles with his thumbs into them. The boy relaxed visibly.

'No. You are not going to be dumped in an orphanage.'

_Silence._

'But where will I go then?'

Tom's stomach twisted and a traitorous lump had formed in his throat again. It was now or never.

'Harry, you understood what I said about you having special abilities, right?'

The boy nodded, intrigued by the weird approach being used to answer his simple question.

'I am not the right person to explain what exactly happened to you. I do not understand it fully myself.'

Harry nodded again, but more crestfallen this time. He feared where this was going.

'You are special but there are other people just like you, who can perform equally ... outstanding ...things.'

At this the boy looked up in surprise.

'Yesterday night, when you were asleep, an old friend of your parents showed up.'

'My parents?' Harry was curious now. He felt his anger ebbing away and he didn't like that feeling at all. He wanted to stay angry. Everything had been so unfair, it was his right to be angry! But why did Tom make him feel so less ... miserable?

'Yes. You know that you were placed in your relatives' care upon your parents'... death.'

Tom felt uneasy cutting into this subject, but the boy just nodded. So he continued.

'You were put there by a friend of your parents.'

Harry snorted, surprised by his reaction and clearly embarrassed, covering his mouth with his hands instantly. He wanted to apologise but Tom just nodded understandingly.

'I know. It is confusing. If he really was your parents' friend, why would he have placed you there, put you in such a horrible situation?'

Harry didn't trust his voice. He just nodded.

'I am afraid I can't offer you a very good explanation. Not even a bad one. He told me that it was for a good reason, but he refused to elaborate on that. I am sorry.'

This was going better than Tom had expected, yet the uneasiness of circling the topic lingered.

'Harry you cannot stay here.'

_Silence._

'I know.' Harry tried to look very brave. He hadn't expected to. Why would Tom want him to stay anyway? Maybe he had hoped that he would, for a brief second. And only maybe. Yet it hurt to feel his fears confirmed.

'Believe me Harry. I would have gladly offered for you to stay here.'

_Yeah, _Harry thought, the familiar anger rising again, making him feel oddly comfortable. _That's easy to say knowing that you won't have to put up with me! _

'But I cannot explain what happened to you, nor can I help you control it.'

Harry teared up again and became so annoyed by it he violently pushed his forearm across his face. He hissed when he tore at the glue on his forehead but ignored the pain. After a moment he just stared at Tom, completely lost.

This was heartbreaking. Tom watched the boy and was desperate to comfort him, say anything to make him feel better. Yet he knew that it wouldn't do any good if he lied to the boy, let him live in the belief that he could stay with him, or if he withheld any information from Harry that he had obtained so far. The boy had been lied to all his life - it had to stop _now_.

He wanted to stroke Harry's head but the boy jerked away from the touch. Tears fell down his cheeks.

'It's okay, I don't care!' he cried. 'I don't want to understand it. We can just ignore it!'

_Sigh. _

'Harry this is dangerous. You have got a lot of power within you, and we don't know how you can use it or control it. It could harm you.'

'Not any more than Uncle Vernon did!' the boy voiced miserably, pleadingly.

'Pleaaaaaaaaase...' he started crying in earnest, hiccupping involuntarily. 'Please don't leave me alone again.'

That hurt so much. Tom felt his eyes stinging as well and resisted the urge to rub them.

'Harry please...' he started again but was interrupted.

'Noohoo pleeease. I'll do anything you want me to...but pleaaase don't leave meee..' The boy barely managed to talk, sobbing in desperation.

Tom tried to reach out for Harry once more but again the boy backed away. Very saddened Tom lowered his arm and buried his head in his hand. Of course the boy felt forsaken! And there was nothing he could do about it. This was such a crappy situation. He felt anger rising in him, cursing the old man who had burdened him with this conversation, even though that wasn't quite true. Tom had felt cheated, yet he wanted to be the one to talk to Harry, to ensure it wasn't made any harder on the boy than necessary.

Looking into teary eyes Tom tried to reason with Harry.

'You will never have to go back to the Dursleys again. Your parents' friend will pick you up here tonight; we just have to pick up your belongings from your home before. Harry: He understands about your abilities, he shares your gift. He can show you how to handle it and maybe he can tell you something about your parents too.'

'I don't care!' Harry cried. 'I won't see you again. I want to stay here. I want to be with you.'

Tom sighed but before he could speak Harry continued desperately, changing tactics.

'I can go back to the Dursleys. It's okay! I will be fine there! It's not as bad as you think. I just need to be.. _better_. They can be nice and I can keep living here. _Close to you._'

Fighting back the tumultous emotions Tom bit his bottom lip. These people had no idea how much they had damaged this little child. His uncle had nearly knocked him unconscious, - slammed his head into a car for crying out loud! Yet the kid offered to go back and did so gladly, so afraid to be taken away from the familiar, from something trusted.

'Harry', Tom pleaded. 'Please be reasonable, you cannot go back and live with your uncle anymore. He won't change his behaviour, you know that.'

'I don't care!' Harry interrupted once more. 'He can beat me! It's okay. I deserve it... I make him do it! It's not his fault!'

Tom couldn't bear this any longer. He reached out for the boy, ignoring the flinch and grabbed Harry's arms, pulled him off the couch and drew him close to his chest. He felt little arms wrapping around his body as he started to stroke the boy's hair. Within moments he felt the wiry body relax as he continued stroking Harry's hair. Once the boy's heavy crying subsided, he continued.

'I know it hurts and it is unfair. But life is not fair. You may not see the reason behind all this, but please believe me I just want what is best for you.'

Hearing himself utter those words, Tom felt truly disgusted. He had never figured that he would actually talk to a child like this. He was used to reasoning things out with his son, he'd explain and Sam would understand. Sometimes he'd challenge his father's opinion – which was a good thing – and Tom was glad that he did. But they always talked like friends. This was different. This felt as if he was being condescending. He just told Harry that he was doing what was best for him, regardless of his feelings, and that one day, he might understand. Or not.

'You think that going back is an option, but it is not. I won't allow that man to beat on you even one more time.'

These words needed a moment to sink in. Still Harry was confused. Tom _wouldn't allow_ it. Tom talked like a father was expected to talk about his son being treated unfairly, sticking up for him, protecting him. Yet he refused to keep Harry. This was so confusing!

Harry didn't want to feel the pain anymore, not to be cheated and hurt anymore by people that pretended to care.

'Harry do you hear me?'

The boy had ceased crying and pressed his lips together tightly, refusing to answer.

Withdrawing Harry from his chest, Tom cupped his cheeks in his hands and gently forced the boy to look at him. He wasn't even sure what he had expected but Harry just numbly looked at him, a distant stare in his eyes.

Afraid that Harry might withdraw himself even further he stood up, gently putting Harry down in front of him. Crouching down until their eyes levelled, he drew his breath one more time.

'You must be hungry Harry. Do you want to come with me into the kitchen and have some food?'

The boy only shook his head lightly. Tom sighed.

'Sit down then. I want to take a look at your injuries once more and get you something to make the pain go away, okay?'

Harry complied wordlessly, stepping back a pace and carefully sitting down on the couch. Absent-mindedly he pulled his shirt off his chest and stared blankly into nothingness.

Tom turned around to fetch his doctor's case and took out a small tin with pills. Briefly checking the label, he opened it and handed two pills to Harry.

'I'll get you some water' he told the boy, but Harry had already taken the pills and swallowed hard.

Crouching in front of the boy Tom ran his thumbs across Harry's forehead, felt his throat and neck and tilted his head to either side to look at the bruises. There wasn't much he could do about these.

'Please lie down on your stomach' he gently ordered. Again the boy complied wordlessly.

Extracting another tin from his case Tom popped open the lid and applied some salve to the cuts on Harry's back. For a moment he thought the boy had winced, but maybe he had just imagined it. Harry was so withdrawn all of the sudden, so hurt. Yet Tom felt that anything he could say or offer to the boy would only make things worse.

Quickly finishing with his task, he gently stroked the boy's head once more.

'This should do it. I know it hurts now but in a couple of days the pain will be gone and the cuts will heal. I put some salve on to them that will help the healing process and keep the cuts from scarring over.'

When Harry still didn't move he added

'You can get up now.'

Harry rose and automatically put his shirt back on, looking blankly at Tom's chest.

This was so heartbreaking! Tom wanted to grab the boy by the shoulders, shake him out of his detachedness, reach him somehow, but just as he took a deep breath to start a sentence that hadn't even formed in his mind yet, Harry looked at him and calmly said

'It's okay. Let's pick up my stuff.'

And without another word he got up and made his way to the front door.

x x x


	10. Breaking The Habit

**Chapter 10: Breaking The Habit**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this, I do this purely for fun.

_**Warnings: **_Nothing specific

**Please Come For Me – Chapter 10 – Breaking The Habit**

Vernon's head felt heavy. He was sitting in his lounge chair in the living room, a bottle of whiskey resting on his knee. He hadn't even bothered to fetch a drinking glass and just took an occasional sip now and then.

He had been so tired last night. He had slumped down in his chair and fallen asleep in a matter of minutes. When he woke up the house was deserted. He had expected Petunia to fuss over him, comment on his drinking or maybe start nagging him again about the boy - where was the boy anyway? But she didn't. She was gone. Dudley was nowhere to be seen either.

He had strolled through the house, dragging his heavy feet across the floor, his head pounding with every step he took. Every single room was deserted and after a few moments he began to notice that some things were missing. Yet his brain was working slowly and it annoyed him that no one was nearby who could bear the brunt of his frustration.

Once he had come back down into the kitchen he saw a note attached to the fridge with a magnet framing a miniature picture of Dudley. Grabbing it short-temperedly Vernon had to concentrate very hard to keep his blurry vision clear and decipher the note. It read

_Vernon, _

_Probably you will not remember last night's events but be assured I have had enough of it. Don't bother looking for me or Dudley, we won't come back. I am doing what I should have done a long time ago. Even if you don't remember what you did, I hope you realise that you helped a great deal with making this decision easy. I am leaving you and taking my little boy with me. Don't come looking for us. _

_Petunia _

Dumbstruck he slumped his body back into the chair again and took another sip of the whiskey. _What the hell? _

He didn't even know what time it was or how long he had been sitting there when the doorbell brought his attention back to reality. Grabbing onto his bottle he took a few more sips and got up, swaying as he made his way towards the door.

He managed to grab hold of the door knob after fumbling with it for a few moments and turned it around, opening the door with so much force that it slammed into the hallway wall with a loud thud.

He tried to take in his surroundings and noticed that a man he hadn't seen before was standing in his driveway. Or had he seen him before? He wasn't sure. Somehow he felt so...odd.

Before he could even say or do anything, he saw the boy cowering behind the man. Rage instantly started to rise again in Vernon's chest. The boy was the reason for all his trouble. He had cost him his car, his job, his wife, he just ruined everything.

'You little...' he started spitting.

Balling his right hand into a fist and grabbing the whiskey with his other hand, he tried to approach Harry, his face twisted with anger. But his balance betrayed him and he stumbled against the doorframe which creaked severely under his weight. While he tried to grab on to the wood to keep from keeling over, the man approached him until his face was close – too close – to his own. He felt his head being pinned to the doorframe by a deadly stare and icy words were uttered into his ear, barely audible.

'Don't. Even. Think. About. It.'

'What the...' Vernon wanted to interrupt but his brain had trouble comprehending why that stranger was standing three inches away from him and had by now raised his fist, ready to strike anytime soon. For a moment the man looked like he was going to punch him right across the face but then he lowered his fist, as if surprised by his own movement.

'I have come to collect your nephew's belongings. We will be gone shortly and you better stay out of this unless you want to experience some of your rotten behaviour firsthand.'

Vernon's eyes protruded dangerously and he looked like he would sick up any moment. Glaring at the boy once more he finally turned around, smashing into the cupboard's door yet again on his way back to the living room. He was oblivious to the fact that the decrepit door noisily fell to the floor, now broken beyond repair.

'If you aren't gone in five minutes you'll regret it' he shouted behind his back, but somehow it sounded rather weak.

Tom turned around and faced Harry whose face had visibly paled even though his detached expression hadn't changed since they had gotten into the car and driven up to Number Four, Privet Drive.

Tom rested his hands on Harry's shoulders as he leaned down.

'It's okay. I am with you and your uncle is waiting downstairs. I won't leave your side. We'll just go inside and grab your stuff and be out again in no time.'

With that he turned the boy around and gently pushed him towards the door. Harry stumbled a little and started moving, feeling the tranquilising weight of a big hand resting on his right shoulder as he started walking up towards the front door.

Harry peeked inside anxiously. Once he was sure that Vernon was nowhere near, he made his way upstairs, the weight on his shoulder never ceasing.

_Where is Aunt Petunia?_ Harry wondered. _Did they leave because of me? I am taken away and they don't even say goodbye? Don't they care at all?_ Confusion overruled the hurt for a moment. On the one hand this was what Harry had hope for all along – to be taken away from this, be placed somewhere else, _somewhere safe._ Yet he missed his Aunt and – even Dudley! He couldn't even tell why, maybe it was the certainty that he would be gone for good now that enabled him to think of his relatives differently.

_I don't know why. But I will miss them. After all they put up with me for nearly all my life... _Before the building pressure behind his eyes became too intense, Harry forced himself to abandon this thought.

Harry remembered the boards in front of his window once he approached his bedroom. Embarrassment was warming his cheeks and he cringed at the thought. He didn't want Tom to see it. He had been so angry downstairs. Harry had been startled when the doctor had stood up to his uncle and nearly knocked him out. He didn't know what Tom had told Uncle Vernon, and somehow he didn't want to know. All that mattered was that Vernon had disappeared soon after.

He tried not to bother or to care. It helped ease the pain that continuously needled his heart and threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe if he tried to ignore the pain, to just blind out the hurt, he could stop feeling without entering his realm.

It had happened twice before when he had been really scared. He had wished to be someplace else and somehow it had worked! He had entered his different world and nothing had harmed him. But also he had made freaky things happen and everybody had been annoyed or upset afterwards. Maybe if he didn't seek out this place anymore, if he could do anything possible to not do it again, maybe Tom would change his mind and keep him!

Plucking up his courage Harry took a deep breath and turned around, facing Tom who looked a little startled.

'It's okay. I can get my stuff.' Harry wasn't stupid. 'I just want a moment alone...in my room. Okay?'

_Nod. _

Tom let go of Harry's shoulder and watched the boy apprehensively opening the oddly detached door, just enough to squeeze through, and close it again as far as it would allow.

_What is it with all these broken doors? _Tom wondered, remembering how Vernon had smashed the cupboard's door downstairs only a moment ago. _If he is drunk all the time just like now it's a miracle that he hasn't broken his neck yet or fallen down the stairs, _Tom thought with a lack of regret.

He only caught a brief glimpse of the room but he couldn't see anything inside for it had been so dark. Didn't this room have a window?

A couple of minutes passed and the boy squeezed out of the room again, holding the door handle tightly and shutting the door instantly again. Harry gave him an anxious and somehow awkwardly expectant look but then just said

'We can go.'

Harry held a little packet that was wrapped up in something that looked like a pillowcase. It couldn't contain more than a handful of things. _Were these all his belongings?_

Tom shifted from one foot to the other uneasily but decided not to press this matter any further right now. He had already caused the boy enough distress for the day.

He held out his arm towards Harry in a sympathetic gesture, waiting for him to come closer, but the boy just passed by quickly and made his way down the stairs, escaping the gentle touch, blinking his eyes quite rapidly.

With a sigh, Tom followed him, taking a look around, ensuring that Vernon was nowhere near.

Once they were back outside Harry just stood in front of the car, patiently waiting for Tom to open the door, his detached stare firmly in place. He tried not to look back. _This is it, _he thought._ I am leaving for good and I am not coming back. I don't care that Aunt Petunia or Dudley aren't here. They wouldn't bother anyway. _Harry knew this wasn't quite true. At least he hoped it. But what was the alternative? _It'll hurt less this way, _Harry kept telling himself.

With a hurting heart Tom wordlessly unlocked the car and seated himself inside, waiting for Harry to do the same and fasten his seatbelt.

The drive back to his house was marked by an uncomfortable silence. Glancing at his watch Tom knew that they had still a few hours left before Harry would be picked up by this old man. He desperately wanted to do something - anything - to make the boy feel better, but the complete inadequacy he experienced left him feeling quite shaken. This detached attitude the boy was displaying was even harder to bear than his crying and pleading.

Once back in the house Tom noticed his stomach grumble audibly. He hadn't eaten since yesterday's supper at the Gregory's and neither had the boy. Although he didn't feel like having anything at all, he figured that – as he was running out of ideas how to approach Harry – he could just as well fix some tea for them and see what would happen. Also he needed to take care of his own kids. They had been waiting at the Gregory's too long already. Again a guilty pang hit him, only increasing the feeling of inadequacy.

Maybe talking to them would ease the discomfort, yet he wasn't happy about the situation.

He had thought about fetching his kids while Harry was still there. Maybe they could say goodbye properly and the boy would be cheered up for a while. But Tom was hesitant. Wouldn't this make it only worse for the boy? Yes, the kids had met and they got along splendidly. But showing Harry that he – for once – had friends in his life, only to take them away from him shortly after? This didn't seem to be such a good approach after all.

Closing the front door he looked at Harry who held on to his wrapped-up packet tightly.

'Are you hungry by now? I will go into the kitchen and fix us something to eat.'

The boy didn't react.

_Sigh. _

'If you want to you can go into the living room and turn on the stereo or the telly. Or you can come and fix some supper with me.'

For a moment the boy looked at him, as if weighing up if he had just been requested to prepare his own food, but then a shadow crossed the child's face and he turned around, making his way to the living room.

x x x

Tom picked up the phone that lay in the kitchen and dialled the Gregory's number. It rang a couple of times.

'Daddy?'

'Hi Sweety. Is Sam with you?'

'Yes. Daddy where are you?' The little voice was whining.

'Sweety. Yesterday Harry became very sick and I had to take care of him. I needed to arrange a few things and I will pick you up by tonight.'

'Uhm. How come you didn't get us last night? I missed you. We wanted to play!'

_She is right, _Tom thought. He had promised that he would pick them up and do something fun with them and then he had broken his promise. The circumstances were outstanding, yes, but how did you explain this to a three-year-old? Also, he didn't want to explain or justify. Mary Lou was right – he had not stuck to what he had said regardless of the situation.

'I am sorry Mary Lou. I didn't mean to hurt your or Sam's feelings. I will call you again tonight before I come and pick you up. But can you give to phone to Mrs. Gregory now?'

'Nohooo I want you to come for me now!' The little girl sounded like she was going to cry soon. But you couldn't reason with a three-year-old. And talking to her on the phone wasn't making this exactly an easy issue.

'Mary Lou. Let's make a deal, okay?' Tom started coaxing.

'What deal?' She sounded intrigued.

'You will make up a new game – anything you like. Think about it. And tonight when I pick you and Sam up, we will play it.'

She had to think about this for a while, but somehow the thought seemed appealing.

'Uhm. Okay Daddy. But tonight you HAVE to come please!'

'I will.' And he meant it, steeling himself to pick his kids up, no matter what.

'Tom?' a woman's gentle voice spoke.

'Elisabeth. It's good to hear your voice.'

'What has happened? We wondered when you would call.'

'You know I said that Harry had some issues at home?'

'Yes.'

'It turned out that he was being abused badly by his uncle and I had to take care of his injuries last night.' Carefully choosing his next words, Tom added.

'And I had to make arrangements for him to be taken out of his relatives' custody. He cannot stay there.'

'Mh. I see. Where will he be taken?'

'A friend of his parents will take him in.'

'Oh good.' Relief was evident in the woman's voice. 'How is he taking it?'

'Not too well I fear. But who would? I need to look after him until tonight, then he will be picked up. You can't imagine how guilty I feel for having broken my promise I gave Sam and Mary Lou.'

'I think I do, Tom. But it is a lousy situation, isn't it? I believe you did what was best for the boy.' With the two kids still sitting next to her, she only hinted at her next thoughts.

'It wouldn't have done any good. It would have been mutually upsetting. So when will you come back here?'

'By tonight I guess. I was told that Harry will be picked up around 6 p.m.'

'Tom?'

'Mh?'

'When will your wife be back at home?' Tom thought for a moment.

'I think in a couple of days, she wasn't sure yet.'

'That's good. Talk to her. Yesterday night was surely a tough one and no one should have to deal with all those things alone. Not even you.' And she finished that sentence with a determination that left Tom unable to retaliate so he just nodded to himself.

'Thank you Elisabeth. Mind to hand the phone to Sam for a moment? I need to hang up soon and go back to Harry.'

'Not at all. Take care will you!' And with this some shifting noises permeated the receiver, a second later a boy's voice piped up.

'Dad?'

'Hi Sam.'

'Good to hear you. I missed you. So did Mary Lou.'

'I know, Sam, I know. I am sorry, please forgive me.'

'It's okay Dad. What happened? Is Harry alright?'

'No, unfortunately he is not.' Uncertain how much information Tom should disclose at this time, he continued.

'His uncle has been hurting him.' A gasping sound was audible.

'Was it bad Dad?' _It always is, _Tom thought, but understood what his son meant.

'Yes, I fear it was. I had to take care of him last night. He will be removed from his relatives' custody.'

'But where will he stay?' For a moment Tom thought that Sam would suggest what he wanted to hear all along but at the same time he knew this wasn't possible.

'A friend of his parents will take him in.'

'But...will we still able to see him then?'

'Yes, I think so. But he has to settle in first and he needs time to recover. His injuries will be gone soon but there is a lot he has to work through, emotionally. Can you understand this?'

'Hm, yes. Okay Daddy, we will see you tonight then Mrs. Gregory said?'

'Yes. I will call before I pick you up. Take care of your sister, will you?'

'Yes Dad. I love you.'

'I love you too.'

And with that he hung up. The feeling of inadequacy hadn't vanished. But he felt comforted a little by having heard his children's voices. He would get them tonight, he told himself. No matter what.

x x x

Severus had forced himself to remain calm. If there was anything he could rely on, it was his ability to withstand stressful situations. Although, this one was rather testing his patience.

The headmaster had left him confused and – of course he would never admit this though – scared. How the hell was he supposed to take care of a nine-year-old? And furthermore: James Potter's nine-year-old!

Thinking of James Potter, rancour rose in Severus' chest. It was battling a fierce fight with the pain and hurt that screamed for repentance when he thought of Lily. Albus was expecting too much of him! Severus was used to high expectations which were impossible to live up to. But this was personal, this was different.

Severus wanted to think it was unfair to expect so much of him, but didn't allow himself this luxury of self-pity. He was complying for his loyalty wouldn't allow him to deny any request Albus brought forth, no matter what it was. But that didn't mean that he had to like it!

To be honest, Severus had been intrigued by the subtle well-chosen hints Albus had offered now and then as their conversation had proceeded. He had let on about some outstanding wandless magic the child – a nine-year-old! – had performed. About a purely mind-controlled sphere. In fact, this had interested Severus a lot although he wouldn't show it. How was a child able to do such a thing?

He strained himself not to enquire about this any further, a completely indifferent glare firmly in place that didn't fool Albus for one second.

'I want you to ensure that the boy won't harm himself by accidentally performing magic.. or otherwise.' The headmaster had said. 'You will need to keep a close eye on him as I cannot tell you what triggers his magical outbursts. I want you to figure out what it is he actually does, how he does it, and how he can control it. You are the most skilled person I know when it comes to this area of magic and I trust you with this.'

_How convenient, _Severus snidely thought. _Appealing to my pride won't work, old man. _

'I am sure your skills surpass mine by far, Headmaster.' He had offered, knowing the answer but awaiting a reaction that would betray Albus' motives. But his collocutor was equally hard to fool. Instead he said

'As for now you will have to take it as it is, my boy. I cannot provide a suitable place for Harry at the moment. But look around – this place is perfect for a little child, isn't it?'

_The place is in fact very suitable, but its occupant isn't_, Severus thought bitterly.

During the holidays he stayed at his mansion far away from the big cities. He had left his childhood home at Spinner's End a long time ago, relinquishing his painful memories of the place he never intended to seek out again.

He liked it here. It was a family inheritance and – not having contact with any of his remaining family that showed no interest in this place – he had free reign to live here. It was calm, deserted, neutral, perfect.

The manor was surrounded by vast fields and forest, even a lake was somewhere close by and – most important of all – no neighbours or any unwelcome visitors. At least that was the way it had been like until now.

'This is only temporarily' Albus had coaxed. 'As soon as you teach Harry to work _with_ his abilities and not against them, as soon as he is safe, there won't be any need for him to stay here anymore.'

Albus was confident that things would work out eventually, taking the destined path he had awaited for so long now. But he wanted to allow Severus time to grow accustomed to it. For now he needed some different motivation, the feeling that this was – in fact – only a small invasion of his private life and would be over quickly. And it had worked.

Severus had tried to view the matter neutrally. He'd shut out his emotions. He had done that so many times before, he could do it again! He would just accomplish what had been requested of him and get rid of the boy as soon as possible and return to his _bearable _life.

Walking through the manor Severus had tried to figure out where best to put the boy. Certainly he didn't want to babysit him all day long. On the other hand, it couldn't hurt to have him close by to ensure that he wasn't doing anything stupid, after all there were many valuables in his manor and also quite dangerous objects. He would have to lock them away before the boy arrived, Severus reminded himself.

Next to his master bedroom was another spare room, considerably smaller, but it would serve the purpose. It contained a four-poster and a wardrobe, some bookshelves full of dust-covered volumes and a little fireplace. With a flick of his wrist Severus had removed all dust from the room and a new bed spread was lying heavily on the four-poster. He thought about adding a few more cushions but then hesitated. _This wasn't a holiday home. The boy shouldn't get too comfortable or get the impression that he was being treated like a prince, that insufferable little brat he surely would be! He was going to teach him, not pamper him!_

Severus had tried to get some more rest once all preparations were done and tried to calm himself with a heavy volume in his study but his concentration was betraying him, his gaze ever so often wandering towards the grandfather clock next to the door, awaiting the dreaded arrival of his guest.

But this hadn't been the worst of it. Ridicule seemed to trail Severus.

'Make sure you wear something...less scary.' Albus had said, twinkling his eyes merrily.

_Had the headmaster really just said SCARY? Bit rich coming from a man who indulged in wearing ridiculously combined garments._

Too incensed to speak for a moment Severus had been at a loss and Albus had seized his chance to continue.

'Harry neither knows about magic nor our...habits. There will be so many new things for the boy already. Let's try to make it easier on him and at least stick so some familiar things he knows, at least until he is aware of a wizard's proper dressing.'

Disgusted, Severus had shot Albus a deadly glare, not irritating the old man for even a fraction of a moment. Yet if felt good that he had tried.

Spinning around once his robes encircled him and – after a short muttered incantation – were transformed into loosely fitting black jeans and a matching long-sleeved shirt. Irritated by the fact that this clothing wasn't uncomfortable at all and actually quite _nice_ for a change, Severus tried to abandon the thought. His obvious distress only seemed to kindle the headmaster's amusement even further before he mercifully left at last.

And now Severus stood in the hallway in front of the entrance door, looking down at his casual wear, waiting to hear a knock resound from the other side of the door any moment.

x x x

When Tom returned with a tray laden with two cups of hot tea and some buttered toast, he noticed that Harry was sitting on the couch rigidly. He looked like he hadn't moved at all, let alone touched anything.

Placing the tray on the dining table Tom sat down and studied Harry for a moment, his gaze resting on his son's shirt Harry was wearing. It was fitting him, at least way better than the other stuff the kid had been wearing. Again the bundle Harry had retrieved from his room popped to his mind. Was this really everything the child possessed?

Harry gasped noiselessly when he noticed Tom staring at his shirt. Grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt he started to pull it over his head, exposing his wiry frame.

'What are you doing Harry?' Tom asked, feeling very confused.

Laying the shirt aside carefully, Harry began picking in his packet and pulled out a rather shabby looking way-too-big shirt and started to put his right arm through the sleeve. Looking at Tom, then at Sam's t-shirt and then back at Tom, he blushed and answered with a small voice.

'That isn't mine. It's yours. Surely you want to have it back.'

Sighing, Tom stood up, crossing the space between Harry and him with only a couple of strides. Holding the boy's hand in midair he pulled the old shirt off Harry's chest again and placed his son's shirt carefully in Harry's hands.

'It's yours. Take it. Keep it.'

For a moment Harry looked incredulously, as if fearing to be tricked into something. Apprehensively he stroked the shirt on his lap and put it back on again, looking at Tom expectantly. He just nodded and made his way back to the dining table.

'Come Harry. Let's have some food then.' The boy hadn't eaten all day. This was not a request.

The boy complied wordlessly. He picked at his food without any interest but ate obediently, not looking up or signalling any desire to start a conversation.

_Is there anything else I could do or say now anyway? _Tom thought. _I tried and I just don't know what else I can do to make him less miserable._

Equally saddened Tom picked at his own buttered toast, forcing himself to eat it.

Was there anything he could say to prepare Harry for what was coming? Maybe tell him about the old man, what he had looked like, what he had said? But wouldn't that upset the boy even further? Several times he took a deep breath, only to close his mouth again instantly and resume picking at his toast until Harry looked up and just nodded.

Harry felt uneasy. He had managed to push this feeling of hurt and fear of abandonment deep down. He had actually managed not to feel anymore, although his stomach still twisted painfully. When Tom had given him the shirt he'd felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes but had sucked it up and remained calm.

The more time passed the more he was sure that Tom wouldn't change his mind and tell him that he could stay. He didn't want him to be upset. He had done a lot. At least he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys anymore, Harry told himself. And this feeling of numbness, of nothingness, was quite pleasant. He didn't want to forsake it anymore now that he had tried so hard and managed to attain it. He would just keep it and learn to live with it.

But looking at Tom he couldn't bear the sight, seeing him so dejected. At least he had tried to help him when no one else had. He didn't want Tom to be sad. Trying to pull together all his confidence and putting it into his voice he looked at Tom, praying that he wouldn't answer or say anything which would make it even harder for him to sustain his consoling indifference.

'It's okay. Don't worry. You can't do anything about it but you tried, that's more than anybody else did.'

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Harry pleadingly looked at him, shaking his head ever so lightly so Tom refrained from commenting and both just sat in silence, waiting for the clock to chime 6 p.m.

x x x


	11. All Things Change

**Chapter 11: All Things Change**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does. Also I do not make any money with this, I do this purely for fun.

_**Warnings: **_Nothing specific

**Please Come For Me – Chapter 11 – All Things Change **

Petunia glanced over to the bed where her son was lying, sound asleep. She couldn't believe she had actually done it!

She had thought about doing it several times prior to this night. Maybe. But actually doing it. Last night's events had just given her the much needed push over the edge to make a decision.

x x x

Harry's performance had scared her. But not nearly as much as her husband's behaviour. She had told the doctor to take Harry away. It had been a relief to see him actually take the boy. For a moment she thought the man would refuse, a hesitant expression lingering on his face. But then he had held the boy close to his chest and had left.

Petunia had felt utterly disgusted with herself, uncertain about her motivation. Did she really want to get rid of the boy for her own sake or was it to protect him? The doctor was the most suitable person to take care of him in his state, she reminded herself constantly, though the guilty pang didn't vanish completely.

Vernon had been outraged and it was near impossible to get him to go inside the house again once the doctor and Harry were gone. By now neighbours were glued to their windows, not even bothering to back away when Petunia noticed them. _They all know, _she thought. _Now they all know. _

Finally she had managed to steer her husband back into the house where he seated himself in his favourite chair after he had grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Her heart sank at the sight – he was really making a habit out of this now.

Slumped down in the chair he had started drinking heavily, only pausing to scream about what he'd do to the boy once he dared to show up again! Petunia's nerves ebbed away with every word he uttered until she nearly lost her mind. Then the doorbell rang.

Oblivious to his surroundings Vernon continued to mutter incomprehensible curses, so Petunia rose to see who was ringing. _Would any one of the neighbours actually bother to check on them? _She was hesitant to open the door. Surely this was a 'nice' neighbourhood, but here nice was defined by outward appearance and not by inner values or any favourable character traits for that matter.

Being honest with herself, Petunia didn't even want the neighbours to check on them. She felt betrayed. Her facade had been shattered beyond repair. Everything she had forcefully tried to maintain had been wiped away by the events of one night. She didn't know what she was going to say to whomever was standing on the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath she had opened the door forcefully and was taken by surprise when looking into a serene, yet very earnest face.

'Petunia.' A gentle smile accompanied her name. A rare occurrence.

'Albus.' Petunia was startled by her personal address but relieved to see that the Headmaster was still smiling at her. She opened her mouth but Albus just raised his hand, silencing her.

'I know, my child. I know.'

She couldn't tell if it was the ceasing tension that had been building up all night, the sincere smile or the gentle endearment offered to her, but something inside her broke.

Sobbing violently Petunia buried her face into her hands and wept without holding back. She felt two strong hands resting on her shoulders and finally allowed herself to give up the urge to maintain her last remnants of resistance. Pulled into a hug she rested her face on the headmaster's shoulder and closed her eyes for a second to feel the gentle hands stroke her hair.

No one had done this to her for a very long time. No one had cared about her feelings enough to give her the feeling that it was alright to cry. And here this man stood, holding her. As he had promised, he was there for her if she would allow him to help her, regardless of the many times she had refused.

After another moment Petunia withdrew herself from the Headmaster's embrace and looked at him, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

'The boy is gone.'

She feared she would enrage Albus with this simple statement, but he just nodded and asked

'Do you know where he is now?'

'Yes. Well. Actually I don't. Our doctor brought him back home tonight. He figured that something wasn't right with Harry... and Vernon.'

Albus nodded understandingly, encouraging her to continue with her account.

'He wanted to talk to me and meanwhile Vernon came back. He was out... drinking.'

She spat the last word, surprised by the edge her own voice was carrying. She had uttered many words before which were felt and meant to be sincerely disgusted. But never had they been directed towards her husband. It felt weird, yet not bad. It was like something that had built up deep down inside her heart had finally fought its way out. It materialised in this vocalised observance of the detriment of her husband.

'He tried to get at Harry. Well, actually, he did. It must have been very bad. Harry performed accidental magic and blasted Vernon away a metre or so.'

At this Albus looked up in surprise and stroked his beard thoughtfully.

'I see. Petunia, can you tell me the name of your doctor?'

She had to think for a while.

'It's Connor. He lives in this neighbourhood.'

Nodding again, Albus tried to give Petunia a comforting look, placing his hand on her shoulder again.

'I will take care of Harry. You did as best as you could and you did so admirably. There is nothing you have to be ashamed of.'

_How does he do this? _Petunia thought. She had been afraid that the accusations would come, eventually. That she would be put into that situation she had always dreaded, having to justify why she got rid of the boy. But here the Headmaster stood, simply understanding, _knowing. _

_Could this be? _She wondered. _How would he know what I had to put up with, how miserable I feel?_

'Petunia, it's alright. You mustn't blame yourself. If there is anyone to blame it is me. I put you into this situation and was oblivious to the pressure I added to your life by doing so. Please forgive me.'

She looked at him incredulously.

'You are not angry?'

Albus just shook his head gently.

'But what about the blood wards? They will fail now, won't they?'

Resuming a rather earnest, yet not unfriendly, expression, Albus nodded and stroked his beard again.

'Yes, Petunia. That is true. Years ago I believed that this was the only possible solution to keep Harry safe. I was blinded by this misconception, oblivious to what was happening to Harry and to you here.'

Blinking a couple of times, she looked at the Headmaster again.

'To me?'

'Yes my child. I should have noticed long ago that this was a very unfortunate situation. I didn't make it easy on you to live the life you desired by placing Harry in your care. I should have taken a closer look at your husband. I never expected him to lose control in such a way.'

Nodding sadly, more to himself than anyone else, Albus continued.

'I can see now what you tried to tell me before this night. Harry is not safe here. Certainly the blood wards cannot be reproduced as such, but I can draw on other options to restore his safety to the best of my abilities. You said he has performed accidental magic that manifested itself in a shield charm?'

'I believe so. Vernon was practically blasted away. At least I guess so. He lay several feet away from Harry. He was even unconscious for a while. You know them both, there is no way Harry could have done that physically.'

'What happened then?' Albus kept his hand on Petunia's shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze.

'I tried to calm Vernon but he wouldn't listen. God, I thought he was going to kill the boy. Harry was bleeding from a cut on his head and the doctor took him. So I just asked him to take him away.'

She didn't mean to justify, but somehow it felt like she did. Before she could explain further, Albus interrupted.

'That was a wise decision, Petunia.'

_Blink._

'I meant what I said, my child. This is not your fault and you have tried to solve this dismal situation as best as you could. I believe that the doctor was able to take care of Harry and any of his injuries. There wasn't much you could have done here for him, with your husband in such a state. And considering that Harry has performed such outstanding magic, I will take care of his future care. This can be dangerous for him if he doesn't learn to control it. I had hoped that he could spend some more years of his life away from the wizarding world, but I guess now the time has come that he must learn about his abilities.'

Listening closely, Petunia had calmed a little, comforted by the gentle words that did not bear a single accusation.

'So you are saying that Harry will not come back here?'

'Yes, Petunia. I believe it is time that someone else take care of him. And I will do what I should have done a long time ago and take care of you too.'

'Me?' Petunia was thoroughly confused by now.

'You are no more safe here than Harry, my child. You know why the blood wards were necessary, why all those protective charms were cast around this house. The danger is latent and now that the protection is failing, I fear that ... undesirables... might pay you a visit.'

Petunia's eyes widened fearfully. She hadn't thought about these consequences. Trying to reassure her, Albus rested both hands on her shoulders again.

'I will take care of Harry and make sure that he is being kept safe. And I will take care of you and your son. I know a safe place where you can stay. You. And your child.'

Petunia needed a moment to let these words sink in. Did she actually want to leave her husband? Was she ready to break with her old life? The pain her husband had caused and the embarrassment she had felt upon seeing the neighbours glued to their windows, kindled the feeling in her stomach again. Taking a deep breath she nodded.

'Please help us.'

She looked at the Headmaster and saw tears glittered in his eyes. Albus felt an overwhelming gratitude showering over him. She had actually done it. She had accepted his help and allowed him to make up for the misery he had caused her.

'Where is your son now?'

'At a friend's place. He wanted to come back yesterday but I told him to stay for another day with these...developments...'

Albus nodded. With a flick of his wrist he conjured a piece of parchment with a couple of elegantly written royal blue lines on it and handed it to Petunia.

'Pack a bag and get your son. Leave immediately. You can stay at this place, the directions are on the parchment. A good friend of mine owns a house there and I will inform her of your arrival. It shouldn't take you longer than a few hours to travel there. Do you have enough money?'

Petunia nodded. Somehow this all felt so unreal. Too many things were happening at once and she was grateful that someone else was finally taking charge and it made her feel like someone sincerely cared about her. Afraid that she might change her mind if she waited too long, she wanted to start packing immediately. She then remembered her husband who lay snoring in the lounge chair by now.

'What about...him?'

'I will alter his memory. He will not be able to recollect tonight's events.'

And with a frightening glare that was absolutely uncharacteristic for the serene Headmaster, he added

'And he will stay here.'

Noticing the concerned look on Petunia's face he added

'I know my child. But consider what he has done to Harry. What he has done to you. He doesn't deserve any better.'

Petunia nodded, but somehow couldn't bring herself to abandon the thought yet. The perspective that she would leave with Dudley – for good – was as encouraging as it was frightening. The option to start a new life, away from an alcoholic husband she had stopped loving quite a while ago, away from the neighbours' condescending looks was appealing.

Yet she had loved this man at some point in her life. She couldn't bear the thought of ...undesirables... coming to her house which lay now unprotected, and pay her husband a visit.

'Albus.' She took a deep breath.

'I am not trying to justify what he did. And I feel like I do not deserve any better either. But if I really take Dudley and leave him... You have to promise to me that Vernon will not be harmed by the undesirables. Please.'

Pleadingly she looked at Albus, afraid that he might refuse. But he only nodded.

'I promise. But I will take care of him myself.' There was this edge in his voice again, but Petunia knew that deep in her heart she could trust this man, so she nodded once more and turned around to pack a few things, leave a note for her husband on the fridge and abandon her old life for good.

x x x

Albus had been pacing up and down in his office. His otherwise calm composure was upset for once. He had been relieved to no end that Petunia had finally accepted his help and left Little Whinging with her son last night. She didn't have to fear her abusive husband anymore but even more, she could start a new life, maybe a life she wanted to live a long time ago before he had heaped her with that burden.

A guilty pang hit Albus as this thought occurred to him. Why did he always think of the boy as a burden? But no. It wasn't the boy. It was the circumstances, the life he was destined to live, which made the thought so unbearable.

Ensured that Petunia had arrived safely at his friend's place in the early morning he allowed himself to push the concern of her and Dudley's wellbeing aside for a moment. Still two very pressing concerns disquieted him.

He had talked to Severus and practically forced him to take care of the boy. Severus would learn eventually that he would gain more than he could ever dream of by doing so, but as to now, he must feel truly betrayed and used. And Harry... the thought struck Albus' heart painfully.

The boy had endured much more than he ever should have. And Albus hadn't intervened. He hadn't noticed! He had simply relied on his original decision and taken the lack of complaints or communication from Petunia as a sign of a matter well settled. He had been so foolish!

He had altered Vernon's memory and exercised a lot of restraint to keep from hexing him into something nasty last night. He would take care of him. But not yet. This wasn't the time for retaliation. It was about Harry now.

Glancing at a clock in his office, he decided that it was time to leave for the doctor's place to pick up Harry. _Hopefully the boy is prepared for what is coming, _he thought, thinking of Harry as well as Severus. He stroked the feathers of his beloved phoenix, calming himself immensely by doing so, and left for Little Whinging.

x x x

It was five minutes to six when Harry couldn't bear it anymore. Stuffing the emotions back down had become increasingly difficult as time passed and Tom just sat next to him, patiently waiting for anything Harry might say or do.

The boy interrupted the silence with a violent sob, startling Tom but suddenly wrapping his arms around the man's chest. Crying heart-wrenchingly he began pleading.

'Pleaaaheease don make me go awahahaay.' He was weeping desperately without holding back now.

'I'll do anythin you wan me to pleaaaaaase...'

Tears welled up in Tom's eyes as he hugged the little boy closer to his chest, not trusting his voice for a while.

'I will be good I promise you can say anything I'll do it but don make me go awaahay...'

Gently withdrawing the little boy from his chest and holding Harry's head in his hands, Tom looked at him very seriously.

'Harry. Breathe. Calm down.' With his thumbs he stroked away the tears that kept flowing across the distressed kid's cheeks. It was like a dam had broken and everything Harry had pushed back down into the depths of his heart broke lose at once.

'Harry. I want you to listen to me carefully now. This is very important, do you understand?'

Miserably the child nodded, more tears falling down from his eyelashes onto his cheeks.

'This isn't goodbye. You just need to go away for a while so you learn to control your gift.'

Tom put all effort into making Harry understand that he was Not. A. Freak. He was very special, but given that this was the reason that Harry was being rejected now didn't make it any easier to acknowledge for the boy. Holding the back of Harry's head with one hand, Tom brushed away the strands of hair that kept falling into the boy's face, shielding his eyes from view. Resting his hand on Harry's forehead, he felt that the boy was hot! Little wonder he was so desperately upset.

'You are very, very special and your relatives failed to explain to you what it means to have special abilities. I am sorry that I can't help you, but I don't have these abilities. I understand them as much as you do. You will learn to control them and understand them. Once it is safe for you, you may come back.'

At this the boy blinked, but didn't talk.

'This isn't goodbye' Tom repeated. 'This will only be a while which will change your life dramatically – for the better! I promise you, as soon as you are safe you are welcome in this house anytime.'

Sniffing dolefully Harry looked at Tom with glassy eyes.

'Do you really mean it?'

'Yes.'

'But what if I am not allowed to come?' Harry twisted his face at this thought.

Tom hesitated. He didn't want to make any promises he couldn't keep. He tried to remember what the old man had told him.

'You will stay at a nice place with a friend of your parents. He is extraordinarily gifted – just like you – and will help you through this difficult time. I was told that you need to learn to be safe. Not harming yourself, not harming others. Once you can do this, you are free to come anytime you want to and you will always be welcome.'

Harry looked at the man for a long time, unable to voice his fear, his hurt. He had never thought that he would trust anybody so much, love anybody so much that it would hurt so much to leave that person again.

A single gaze of the boy spoke volumes. Any further words would have little effect.

Taking another deep breath, Tom drew the boy close to himself one more time. He was relieved that the boy wasn't crying anymore. Maybe he had taken heart in the fact that this really was only a temporary separation. It was, wasn't it? The old man had told him that he would be happy for Harry to come back to Tom once he was able to control his magical abilities.

Suddenly a thought struck Tom. Maybe that would help the boy. No more words, no more empty phrases. Gently unwrapping his own arms from the boy he reached behind his neck and undid the knot of his leather string which had the fang attached to it.

Surprised by the sudden movement Harry reached up, realising what was happening as the necklace was placed around his neck and tied up again.

Marvelling at the beautiful fang he ran his fingers across it several times before he felt his chin being lifted up with two fingers. It was a familiar gesture and therefore so comforting.

'I want you to keep this safe for me. It's a panther's fang. It is very dear to me and I treasure it very much.'

Harry opened his mouth hesitantly, afraid that he was given an object far too important, afraid to break it or somehow lose it, but Tom shook his head lightly.

'I trust you to keep it safe. I know you can do it. And you will return it to me once you come back here.'

And with that he took Harry's left hand and placed the fang which was now suspended around the boy's neck into his palm and closed the little hand, wrapping his own around it. Then the doorbell rang.

x x x

Harry looked up at Tom once more and nodded his head ever so lightly. Then he rose, grabbed hold of Tom's hand and moved towards the front door.

A metre away from the door courage seemed to leave the boy, he stopped and fumbled with the fang of his necklace, holding his breath.

Tom squeezed Harry's hand lightly and opened the door.

The old man was serenely smiling at him and looking at the boy compassionately just like he had done the previous night. His clothing had changed considerably though. He was wearing a long coat instead of his robe and had dispensed with his wilful hat. _At least he is being considerate about this, _Tom thought. Harry would have been scared even further if the man had appeared in his prior clothing. He probably would have thought that Tom was going to surrender him to a lunatic.

'Good evening, Dr. Connor. Hello Harry.' Albus outstretched his hand towards Harry but the little boy backed away a bit until he was partly standing behind Tom.

The doctor reached out for Albus' outstreched hand and shook it briefly. Hurt was evident on both men's faces as they nodded at each other. For a moment the old man seemed to ponder how to approach the child best, then he started.

'Harry, my name is Albus...Dumbledore. I know it is very sad that we have to meet under such circumstances. I knew your parents very well. I took care of your wellbeing once your parents passed away.'

At this Tom could hardly suppress a snort but did so for the boy's sake. Taking care of one's wellbeing looked different in his eyes.

'As you cannot stay with your relatives anymore I will bring you to a friend of Lily and James. You may wonder why you are not staying with me. I will be honest with you. Your mother was well aware that her family was in danger. She talked to me and took precautions. She asked me to place you with a dear friend of hers if need arose. And I fear today it has.'

Surprised by these new revelations Tom looked at Albus but couldn't find any trace of a lie or dishonesty in the man's gaze. Maybe he had chosen to reveal this piece of information with the boy firstly, it was after all, very personal.

Unwilling to stretch this painful moment any longer than necessary, Albus decided to move on with the impending transition. Looking at Harry who was still partly hiding behind Tom but obviously intrigued by the revelation about his mother, Albus continued.

'Harry, if you are ready we shall leave now.'

The boy clutched to the fabric of Tom's jeans with his hand, but nodded.

'He needs to get his stuff' Tom added and stroking the boy's head with his hand once more, he turned around to get it but was stopped by Harry who let go of him and help up his hand. Curiously Tom watched the little boy run away to the living room and turned to Albus once more, seizing his last chance to talk to the man again.

'It wasn't easy to talk to Harry about this.' He started. Albus nodded, sadness lingering in his eyes as it did so often these days.

'I told him that he can come back to me once he learnt to control his abilities. I didn't say how long and I didn't say when, but I promised him that it would happen and I do not intend to break this promise.'

Anger started welling up in his voice again, but Tom tried to remain calm.

'I understand that this is a big sacrifice.' Albus nodded. 'Promises are very important and I value them highly myself. I ensure you that the boy will be able to return to you once his abilities are not endangering him or others anymore. But you will understand that it depends on Harry how long this will take. He needs to heal and he needs to learn.'

This time it was Tom's turn to nod. Oddly enough he felt sorry for the old man who seemed desperate to make it right this time.

'Is there a way I can reach you if I need to contact you?' Tom asked.

Almost instantly Albus reached into his pocket and retrieved a little object that looked very much like a miniature chest. While handing it to Tom who opened it curiously and examined the content – a little pencil and some little pieces of parchment – he explained.

'I expected you to ask and took the liberty to prepare this. It is charmed notepaper. If there is anything concerning you, write it onto the parchment and sign it. Once you put your name down, the parchment will vanish. It will reach me wherever I am in an instant and I will come and talk to you as soon as possible.'

Marvelling at the chest once more Tom closed it. He knew by now that the old man wasn't joking about this and while he found it difficult to believe he still nodded. Just as he put the chest into his pocket he felt something pull his trouser leg. Turning around he looked at Harry who was holding his stuffed pillowcase.

Crouching down until they were on eye-level Tom put both his hands on Harry's shoulders.

'Remember what I told you, it is very important, okay?'

The boy nodded.

'You can come back very soon if you make good progress.'

He didn't want to put pressure on the boy but Tom felt that Harry needed to hear this encouragement, see the hope he had.

'You are a clever little boy and I know you will do splendid. I am very proud of you.'

Blinking back tears Harry felt happiness overruling his hurt for once this evening. He hadn't expected Tom to say anything like that, yet it felt so good! For a moment he closed his eyes, pretending that this was what it felt like when a father talked to his son.

Hugging Tom very close to him, he thought _'I love you.'_ Then Harry let go of him and tentatively stepped towards the headmaster.

'See you soon Harry' Tom said as he prayed inwardly that the old man took the boy away finally. He feared that he wouldn't be able to withhold his emotions any longer. He was astonished that the boy managed!

Albus smiled serenely at Harry as he stepped up next to him and looked at Tom once more.

'Thank you very much, Dr. Connor. We will stay in touch.' He didn't say the next sentence for he was afraid of the boy's reaction, but he nodded at Tom and his nod was answered respectively. _Take care of your own family for a while and we will talk soon and figure this out. _

Waving a last goodbye to Harry, Tom closed the door and once more turned around, sinking onto the floor, leaning his head against the wooden door. The feeling of sudden emptiness hurt his heart badly, but at the same time he knew that he had his own kids to take care of now.

_Breanne, _he thought desperately. _Please come back soon. I need you with me, to figure this out. This is just so...lousy. _

x x x

Harry wasn't sure about this old man. He had been nice and there was something trustworthy about him. Harry couldn't put a finger on why he felt that way; he just knew that he did. But then he reminded himself. _Don't be stupid. Don't make those same mistakes again and again. _Planning very hard not to let his emotions take up the reins he had followed the old man obediently as he walked down the driveway. Yet he hadn't spoken to him.

Suddenly the old man turned around, facing him serenely.

'Harry, the next days and maybe weeks will harbour many new experiences for you. You know that you are special. You are not alone with this. Other people have special abilities too. Your parents had them and you have inherited their gift.'

At this Harry looked up. Somehow he felt connected to his parents by hearing this. It had never occurred to him, knowing nothing about his parents at all, that he could – in fact – take after them. Maybe he was not a freak after all.

'We will go to the man you will be staying with now. His name is Severus Snape. He was a dear friend of your mother and also has special abilities. We will Apparate there.'

Noticing the much expected incredulous look on the boy's face he added

'It is a means of travelling great distances in a very short time. Close your eyes. I will grab your shoulders and you may feel a little nauseated, but trust me, everything will be fine.'

Harry steeled his mind _not _to trust this stranger. He wouldn't fall for that again. Yet he tried to school his features into a less frightened expression and nodded, though he refused to talk in the presence of this man.

He closed his eyes and felt heavy hands resting on his shoulders and tried hard to resist the urge to shrug them off. A moment later everything around him seemed to spin for a while as if the world turned upside down. Then the feeling stopped. Opening his eyes tentatively he took a look around an area which looked completely different from Little Whinging.

There were huge fields and a forest in the distance. Wind was brushing his cheeks gently. He could smell a smoky scent coming from somewhere out of the forest. Next to him stood the old man, looking peacefully at him. Harry turned around and gaped at the sight. A huge manor that was at least ten times the size of the Dursley's house lay in front of them.

'This', Albus introduced, 'is Snape Manor, your new home for the next time.'

Taking the barely visible nod of the child's head as an indication to proceed, Albus reached out for Harry's hand to lead him to the manor but the child flinched and backed away, eyeing him warily.

Experiencing the effects of Harry's miserable home life first hand for once, Albus felt sickened, understanding that he hadn't even come close to realising how much damage his wrong decision had done to the boy.

'Please follow me' he commanded gently and made his way up to the manor.

They walked for a minute or two and reached the oak front door. Albus soundly knocked and a moment later it was opened.

Harry, who was now standing next to the Headmaster lifted his gaze and looked into deep dark eyes that studied him intently. Yet the man's face didn't as much as hint towards the thoughts he might have upon this sight.

Backing away a pace he studied the man's features. He didn't look unkind, just very scary. Maybe he was in his late twenties, maybe thirty? But Harry wasn't sure. To him everybody beyond twenty appeared to be rather...old.

The man had dark hair which was a little longer than his that gently touched his shoulders. It was straight and as black as any hair could be. The man's nose was hooked but seemed to suit the man's features perfectly, his expression unreadable. He was wearing black jeans with a black leather belt and a matching longsleeved shirt that was buttoned all the way up. Somehow Harry had the feeling that the man wasn't comfortable in his clothing, although he didn't know why.

'This, Severus, is Harry Potter.' Albus started his fully unnecessary introduction, more for the boy's sake than Serverus'.

'Harry' he turned towards the boy. 'This is Professor Severus Snape. You will be living with him. He is teacher at a school called Hogwarts. I am the Headmaster of this facility. Your parents attended it too.'

Still not willing to speak or trust or do anything which could bear consequences at all, Harry clutched his pillowcase with one hand and the fang around his neck with his other one as the tall man opposite him started to speak.

'Welcome Mr... Potter.'

_Did this man really loathe his name, voicing it with such disgust? He hadn't even seen this man before! _

Harry felt disheartened by this quite unwelcoming greeting and didn't see the glare the Headmaster shot his beloved Potions Master who was testing his patience momentarily.

A tinge nicer he added

'My guest doesn't seem to be very talkative. I must say I appreciate this. At least no childish babbling and ranting. Very well.'

_Was this man being nice or insulting him? _Harry wasn't sure. Looking at the Headmaster he saw that he smiled genuinely at him and waved his hand towards the door.

'Let us step inside then, you will want to unpack.' Albus halted for a moment. There's no fool like an old fool. 'And take a look at your new home' he added quickly, trying not to glance at Harry's rather scanty luggage.

Stepping aside, Severus motioned for his two very unwelcome guests to enter. Once they did, he closed the door swiftly and walked along a great hallway towards a room at the end. Footsteps echoed through the hallway as the little boy glanced at the walls covered with a few pictures that were... _moving!_

He halted in front of a picture that was only showing a forest but the way the treetops moved, swaying gently in the wind... Harry had never seen such a thing before! He was so amazed he nearly dropped his packet when a small bird sped through the picture.

Turning around Severus opened his mouth to comment snidely on the boy's behaviour but Albus shot him a warning glare and raised a hand, silencing the Potions Master instantly.

'Harry' he called out amiably. 'Please join us in the living room. We will need to discuss some things before I leave.'

Jerking back to the present Harry faced the two men again and walked tentatively towards the great room they occupied, tearing his gaze away from the picture. He felt scared. He hadn't seen this Mr. Snape before and had only known the other man maybe ten minutes longer! Yet he felt that deep down in his heart, Tom couldn't have let this man take him away after he had promised that he'd be able to come back. If he ever wanted to trust a person, it was Tom. He wanted to be back with him as quickly as possible, so he plucked up his courage and walked into the living room.

The black-dressed man motioned for an empty leather chair – he and the Headmaster had occupied two others surrounding a dining table – and waited for the boy to sit down.

'You may leave your...belongings... at the door for the time being.' Severus strained himself to keep his voice at a minimal level of disgust. He resented the boy for being here, even though neither of them had asked for this.

Harry reluctantly dropped his packet and shuffled towards the chair, lifting his feet instantly when he noticed the slightly annoyed look on the face of the younger man at this noise.

The instant he sat down Mr. Snape started addressing him directly, his calm features not betraying a single one of the many emotions that ravaged through his mind at the sight of the frightened, bruised boy. Harry didn't notice the uneasy tinge to the man's voice. Albus did, but decided not to show it, his features equally well-schooled.

'Mr. Potter. This may be new to you. But since you will be living in my house from now on, you will abide by my rules. There is no running around the corridors or the manor at all. Breakfast is at 7 a.m., lunch at 1 p.m., dinner at 7 p.m. In my house you will do as I say. Is this understood?'

Hesitantly Harry nodded.

'And you will answer when I ask you a question.' The man added sternly.

Harry's stomach churned up but he pressed his lips tightly together, barely nodding once more as the piercing look the professor was giving him did not waver once.

Severus opened his mouth but noticed the shake of the headmaster's head. _What was this boy thinking? And what was the headmaster thinking for that matter? _Severus was rarely at a loss, but this bizarre situation, the whole day, had been too absurd.

Deciding to drop this issue – at least for the moment – he continued.

'I will show you the manor once the Headmaster has left. You will move into a spare bedroom upstairs. I expect you to keep it clean.'

Harry nodded obediently. Not making a mess and keeping his filth off other people's precious belongings was one thing Vernon had taught him thoroughly. Looking at the Headmaster he felt relieved to see his eyes twinkle as they had done before, smiling at him genuinely. _I don't trust him, _Harry assured himself. _But he seems nicer than the other man. _Somehow the sincere smile comforted him and he nodded back ever so lightly.

Not missing the gesture Albus took heart in it.

'I will leave you now Harry. I hope you will settle in soon and make yourself comfortable. (At this Severus glared at him without hesitation, but was profoundly ignored). I will visit you tomorrow night.'

With this he got up. He knew that the boy didn't trust him yet. But maybe something to look forward to – even if it might not be the heart's desire of the boy – could be of some help during these very unsteady times, a constant offering a feeling of security.

'And maybe I have news of Dr. Connor.' He added.

Raising his hand merrily, Albus smiled at both Harry and Severus.

'I am looking forward to visiting you tomorrow again. I will find my way, don't worry.'

And with that he turned around, breaking into a smile. The picture of his two boys that stared at each other so similarly lingered before his inner eye. _Yes, _Albus thought. _You need each other. And you will understand soon enough. _

x x x


	12. Demons

**Chapter 12: Demons**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I do not own Harry Potter. J.K.R. does. I just borrow her brilliant work to play a little with it. No copyright infringements intended. I do not make any money with this.

This time updating took a while but I was very busy and so was my beta (thanks Jas for your time and dedication!) I wanted to write a decent chapter before I publish something not worth the read just to hurry, I know you'll understand. Hope you enjoy.

_**Warnings: **_Nothing specific

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 12 - Demons**

'Are you in any pain?'

The question shook Harry out of his stupor. Once Albus left he had started to feel scared and left in the lurch. With his gaze fixed on his hands resting in his lap, he tried to avoid the piercing eyes of his new temporary guardian.

'I believe I asked you a question. I do not like to repeat myself, Mr. Potter.'

This icy voice sent shivers down Harry's spine. _What had he possibly done to this man to annoy him just by being here? On the other hand, Harry thought, it was perfectly clear. Here he was, a filthy annoying boy placed in this man's care who hadn't really asked for this. His mere presence was annoying him._

He started to wonder what sort of person his mom would be to befriend someone like this when a hand smacked the table in front of him. Harry jerked and slowly shook his head at the question without looking up.

'Let me put it this way then,' the man added calmly, inching across the table. 'By the looks of your face you must be in some pain, unless you have been given a potion. I am assuming you have not, or I am sure I would have been informed of this. I do not like liars in my house Mr. Potter. Do. You. Understand?'

Harry managed to nod but still hung his head, saddened by the prospect of staying for an indefinite time with this man. _What sort of potion was he talking about? And did his face really look so bad? What did the man know? Certainly he wasn't going to tell him! _

Harry ran a finger across the glued laceration on his forehead and stroked his cheeks gingerly, deep in thought.

Severus noticed the gesture too, but decided not to comment. For now.

'I will fetch some things that might prove helpful considering your condition. And I do not want you to touch anything, is that understood?'

_Yes__. _This Harry understood.

Severus pushed his chair back and headed towards his storage room. He always kept a vast number of potions in stock; he liked to feel prepared. Skimming the neatly labeled shelves with his trained fingers he quickly picked the right potions and filled two small empty vials with the right dose. He made his way back to the living room, shaking his head at the sight of the little boy who had not moved a single muscle.

_This boy was just as impossible as his father!_ Severus thought. _Was he trying to be sarcastic by not moving at all now? Showing how arrogant he could be? _But that wasn't true, Severus had to admit when a small voice in the back of his head disagreed. The boy did look quite shaken.

James had never been insecure. Harry was rigid with fear. _Maybe you aren't looking at the whole picture, _the little voice reminded him. _Because you don't want to see it. Perhaps it is too painful? _Severus shrugged this thought off at once.

'Drink these.' With a thud he placed both vials in front of Harry.

Eying them suspiciously Harry hesitated. On the one hand the man had said he was going to help him. On the other hand he had – although obviously aware of his injuries – been rather indifferent. _What am I supposed to think? And why would he care anyway? Maybe he would be in trouble if I die before Mr. Dumbledore comes back tomorrow, _Harry thought bitterly.

A feeling of great tension spread through Harry's body once more. Actually he did feel a little sick: his head was hurting, his back was aching, and his whole body felt sore. He was exhausted and tired. But he knew that feeling. It had never been very different, and actually, it was quite familiar and ironically provided a source of comfort when all other things seemed to change.

When Harry didn't move Severus uncorked the vials and held them threateningly close to Harry's eyes.

'You will drink these at once or I will make you. Is that clear?'

_Silence._

'It is medicine and will help heal your injuries! DRINK!'

Again the potions were slammed down in front of Harry, who carefully eyed its contents. Taking a deep breath he swallowed the liquids. The effect kicked in momentarily.

He felt a surge of heat flush across his face, then the next moment he felt a chilly breeze. His face and back were itching. It seemed like the scabbing was disappearing and the glued laceration on his forehead felt as if it was shrinking a tiny bit, but it stopped again before a major difference in either was achieved.

_What a weird feeling! _Harry thought. He was scared. Never had medicine made him feel like this. On rare occasions he had been given some. The Dursley's didn't want to take him to the doctor, fearing questions such as why he hadn't been brought in earlier. Once, Harry had been given a disgusting mixture and was allowed to stay in bed for a while instead. It had taken days before he had felt better (although Harry wasn't sure if that was thanks to the medicine or the lack of hours of chores on those days. He had been allowed to rest for once).

Severus looked at Harry's face with a hint of mild surprise which was returned by the boy. Harry's face hadn't changed at all the way he had expected it to. The cut was still visible and many of the bruises had merely adapted a slightly lighter shade of blue. The potions he had given to him were supposed to rid him of any pain and heal the injuries on his body. It had been exactly the proper dose for the injuries in the boy's face…_but_…

_Why was this boy being so stubborn!_ Realisation dawned on Severus' face.

Taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself Severus leaned in very closely to Harry, placing both his hands right before him more forcefully than he had intended to. The effect was obvious as the boy paled and started shaking at once. Harry realized that he had obviously done something very wrong. Although he wasn't quite sure what it was.

_Good! _Severus thought. _At least I have his undivided attention now._

'This…medicine…there should have been just enough to heal your injuries. It was dosed _precisely_ and until moments ago I also thought _correctly_. Are there any other injuries AT ALL you have not told me about?' A penetrating stare accompanied those words.

_Silence._

_I am not going to tell you, _Harry thought. _You don't care anyway!_

This boy was really testing Severus' patience which ebbed away quickly.

'HOW am I supposed to heal you if you are not talking to me for goodness' sake? Since we are stuck here anyway I need to know what condition you are in because I DO NOT intend to nurse you back to health every other day!' He had nearly screamed that last part.

Severus hesitated, quite surprised how quickly he had lost his temper.

'If you do not cooperate there are other ways for me to learn about your condition.'

_Why didn't I perform a diagnostic spell with my wand right away? _Severus thought._ Maybe_, the little voice spoke up, _because you didn't want to. You wanted to check if the boy abides by your rules._ Annoyed at this thought Severus made a dismissive gesture which caused Harry to jump once more, clearly having misunderstood the gesture.

Trying to calm himself and the boy (_no just himself _he thought) Severus added

'Come on, let's get this over with.'

But it was no good. Tears started to well up in the confused boy's eyes but he pressed his lips together determinedly, shaking his head lightly.

'Fine, have it your way then' Severus commented - hands on his hips - and started to walk around the table to examine the boy for any further injuries.

The boy sprung from his seat and ran for the door. Harry didn't care if that person wanted to help him or not, he only wanted to get away! Running as fast as he could he made it to the door which led to the hallway and slammed hard into it - _it was locked!_

_What the... _Harry was oblivious to the pain. He had pressed down the door handle while running but instead of opening up the door had remained locked and Harry had crashed right into it. He ached badly where the door handle had been pushed into his chest. Panicked Harry looked around and made out another door on the other side of the room. Charging at it, he saw that Severus was still not moving, merely watching his futile attempts to flee.

Once Harry reached the other door he found it locked as well. This time he had slowed down in time and didn't hurt himself again, yet horror was evident on his face upon finding himself locked in.

_How come all the doors are locked? _Harry was confused. _Mr. Dumbledore didn't lock them in when he left, did he?_

'Not getting it your way, Potter?' he heard a snide voice from behind which sent shivers down his spine.

_What is happening here?_ Harry didn't know what was supposed to scare him more: The fact that doors in this man's house seemed to lock themselves or the fact that he was stuck with the occupant. Harry decided that the latter was definitely worse. His bottom lip began trembling and for the first time he could ever remember he wished to be back with the Dursleys. If he couldn't be with Tom, they were still better than this! At least there he knew what to expect, that way it wasn't as scary.

With his back pressed against the massive door he warily eyed the Potions Master who had started to walk towards him. Harry shut his eyes, wishing desperately to be somewhere else, rocking himself gently back and forth.

'I will have none of your attitude in my house, Mr. Potter!' Severus lectured sternly. At least he didn't scream anymore. To his own dismay - his voice seemed a tinge nicer.

_Great! Less than a minute has passed and already you've screwed up. _Severus couldn't help but feel inadequate. Surely he had planned to handle matters a little more – _elegantly_ – not to let his emotions carry him away. But somehow too many undesirable feelings flooded him, making him short-tempered and rather… _out of control._ This was a rare experience for the Potions Master.

And how was he supposed to know how to deal with a traumatised nine-year-old? He had anticipated the boy to behave more...grown up... having heard the Headmaster speak of him with such praise and awe he had probably expected (and dreaded) a prodigy. He hadn't really considered that he was actually just dealing with a nine-year-old.

He could handle eleven-year-olds who came to his classes at Hogwarts, but that was so different. They were more grown up and at least they knew their place, respected him. And they weren't James Potter's boys.

_Well do they really respect you or just fear you?_ A little voice in Severus' head whispered. Angrily he wiped the thought away; this wasn't the right time for such contemplation. At the moment he had to take care of this boy and he wasn't used to the fact that things weren't going his way.

But Harry was testing his patience! _Why does he have to put up such a fight about every little thing? _Severus thought, but looking at the small frame of the boy he couldn't deny the fact that after all, this was just a little child, presently scared like hell. Harry's bottom lip was still trembling and he looked like he was going to cry any moment. He hadn't spoken a single word yet.

'_Maybe_…' Severus strained himself saying this. 'Maybe... I should have explained beforehand what we will do.'

Severus leaned back against the dining table and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

'First I will heal your injuries to ensure that you are well and able to settle in properly. Then we will attend to your training and your other…_problems._'

Harry didn't as much as move.

'I am giving you one last chance to comply with my rules. You will do as I say. NOW.'

A few seconds passed. It wasn't much, but it sufficed to make something inside Severus' mind snap. With an angry glare and fists stemmed into his hips he crossed the space between the boy and himself in two quick strides and yanked him by the arm, determined to bring this ridiculous situation to an end and get on with their work.

'NOOOOOO!' Harry screamed.

A second later he found himself being blasted backwards, hitting the dining table forcefully. Jumping to his feet at once he approached the boy again who was cowering on the floor, screaming on top of his lungs. He was thrashing his legs and arms violently against the stone wall and Harry's head came dangerously close to being smashed into a nearby vase.

'_Incarcerous!' _Severus shouted but the ropes that were meant to restrain the boy and to keep him from injuring himself just bounced off and missed his head by a hair's breadth! Then the boy collapsed.

x x x

_You are safe here. Nothing will happen to you._

_Harry felt relieved. Back in his invisible world, he could make out the walls of the living room and a rather irate man trying to reach him. But his protective barriers weren't betraying him!_

_Relaxing slowly, Harry drew his knees up to his chest and flung his arms around them. Hugging them closely, he looked through the silvery barrier that made everything behind it appear somewhat blurry and surreal. For a moment he thought that he saw some sparks and differently coloured flashes of light bounce off his sphere, but maybe this intriguing sight was just a trick of his mind.__ From this side of his sphere, it looked quite nice._

_Somewhere in his head he imagined to be hearing __Mr. Snapes voice commanding to stop this at once. Stop what? He hadn't done anything. He was safe here. And the other man couldn't come through! Here Harry was in charge, it was that simple._

_Yet bitter thoughts formed in Harry's mind. What had happened anyway? Why was suddenly everybody acting so strangely around him? For years and years he had been left in the belief that he was a freak, unworthy of being treated like anyone else, and now, in one day, he had met two men who 'Apparated' from here to there, gave him nasty weird liquids and had self-locking doors in their house!_

_Again Harry heard the commanding voice but contentedly found that it grew fainter as it was being replaced by another higher, softer voice._

'_Don't you want to let him in, honey?'_

_Harry looked around – he couldn't make out were that voice was coming from, but it was so nice, comforting, spreading such warmth, he didn't want it to go away. Maybe talking to it would make it stay._

'_Who are you?' Harry tried cautiously._

'_Honey, you know who I am. You are all right here and you are safe.'_

'_I know.' Harry replied a little crossly, not having a clue who he was talking to. 'But not thanks to that guy.' He made a dismissive gesture towards the hallway door which was now opened though blurry through his misty silvery sphere._

'_He wants to help you.' The voice answered._

'_How do you know?'_

'_I just do.' The voice replied a tinge sadder._

'_What do you mean you know?' Harry questioned._

'_Honey, look at him. He is not a bad person, but this is all new to him as it is new to you, too.'_

_Harry had to think about that for a while. He really hadn't thought about it this way. All he had seen was an irate and completely unfair stranger who changed his behaviour more rapidly than Uncle Vernon could make up reasons to get mad at him._

'_Well,' he pondered. 'I am here because he is supposed to help me. I can't see how he will do that. I don't even know myself what's happening! Look at me - I don't even know who I am talking to right now! Why can't you tell me?' Desperation started to overrule his curiosity._

'_You will learn in due time, trust me, honey.' The voice encouraged him but it didn't help._

_Harry looked around once more, desperately trying to make out who was talking to him but there was no one to be seen wherever he looked. His sphere had closed in on him while he had been talking and he had calmed down considerably. Tentatively he touched the silver barriers, running his fingers through the misty liquid which left his hands completely dry._

'_That guy was trying to get at me! For no reason!' Harry argued. 'How am I supposed to trust him?'_

'_Honey please listen to me. You need to be a big boy now and you will realise that this is working two ways – he also has to learn that he can trust you. He is not as different from you as you may think.'_

_With that the voice disappeared. Breathing more heavily Harry tried to get up, stretching out his hands as if to grab hold of the voice to make it stay, but it was no use. It had gone._

x x x

Harry looked around and realised that the room seemed to be deserted. Allowing his barrier to drop a little he tried to look at every corner, make sure that man wasn't hiding somewhere. With one last rush of warmth he felt a surge of energy spread through his body.

A second later, a painful jolt pushed through him and he clasped his hands to his head, rocking back and forth. Again it felt like all energy had been drained from his body and he felt so tired. Ignoring the warm liquid pouring down his fingers staining his clothing red, he smiled and sunk into a deep trance. Then all fell silent.

Severus re-entered the room cautiously. He was shaken. Nothing he had said or done had made the boy stop thrashing around. None of his spells had worked! The strange feeling of insecurity due to the betrayed trust in his abilities was only marginally overruled by his building curiosity.

The boy had produced a sphere, a magical barrier strong enough to fend off a fully trained wizard! Albus had told him, but to see it for himself and see it so quickly was quite something different. He had expected some exaggeration on Albus' side or maybe weeks or prodding and shoving until the boy displayed his special talent. If it weren't for the fact that it was the Potter Boy he was talking about, he'd probably have acknowledged the skill that Harry possessed. Still it worried him how easily his actions had triggered the boy to flee into his sphere. Regarding the loss of energy Harry suffered each time, this couldn't work out long for him if he kept establishing this sphere regularly without really having any control over it.

He had to leave the room before the boy would calm down. Harry had hurt himself while thrashing on the floor - his head had started bleeding again - but nothing Severus had done had worked for the boy so he finally tried a different approach by leaving the room and observing from the hallway. It seemed like the boy had been talking to someone. He had rocked back and forth, his lips forming words without actually speaking though.

_Was he muttering spells to maintain his sphere? _Severus shook the thought off at once. _No, that wasn't possible. How was the boy supposed to know such advanced magic, let alone perform it?_

It took a few moments and only when Severus had moved out of sight did Harry calm down. It seemed like the shield was draining his energy and Severus was sure – if he hadn't left the room the boy would have maintained it until he ran out of energy completely.

_Severus was deep in_ thought as he approached the unconscious boy. _Why the hell had he been so scared? He just wanted to help him for crying out loud! Well, he had been a little harsh, but still, how was he supposed to get through to the boy?_

_You know why, _a little voice inside Severus' head spoke up. _You especially should be able to understand, don't you think? _Annoyed, Severus realised that he found himself in this uncomfortable inner conversation more often now, ever since Albus had barged into his study and kindly asked to have a word with him. And he didn't like it at all.

Shrugging the thought off he regarded the boy, refusing to acknowledge his inner voice. _There was a reason why he didn't think those thoughts! And he was going to keep it this way!_

With a simple healing spell Severus closed the bleeding wound on Harry's forehead and _scourgified_ the remaining blood. He thought of a spell to remove the bruises on the boy's face as well but noticed something holding him back. It wasn't a lack of proper spells or ability. No. It was a feeling telling him not to.

Bruises aren't only signs of actions and outward injuries but also – in many of those cases – signs of inner scarring. Severus wasn't sure how he was supposed to talk to Harry about those – but he knew that making them disappear would only deny the problem, not solve it. Whatever happened – Albus hadn't told him – he just knew that _something _had happened that caused the boy to produce his protective sphere. And if he was going to learn about that sphere he had to learn why and when he produced it in order to be able to control it.

Severus pulled his wand out of his buttoned-up sleeve – he'd never go anywhere without it – and transfigured one of the leather chairs into a small bed with a few cushions and a bed spread. With one hand he held Harry's head and grabbed the other arm around his waist, hoisting him onto the bed carefully. Not bothering with the boy's clothing or shoes Severus simply pulled the bedspread up to Harry's chin and sat back on one of the remaining chairs, contemplating.

_Had he just tucked the boy in?_

At least fifteen minutes passed before Harry started to stir at all.

'Potter?'

_Silence._

'Boy, wake up!'

Severus didn't fail to notice Harry jerking as he was addressed like that. Eyes still closed the boy seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, mumbling incomprehensible words.

'Pleease don't.. Pleaase' he muttered.

_What was the boy talking about?_

'Potter what are you ranting on about?'

'No please, I am sorry… so sorry… just don't… '

'Don't what?' Eyebrows raised Severus inched towards the makeshift bed, trying to keep his voice calm.

'Pleaase..wasn't my fault I'll be good please...'

_Sigh._

'What was not your fault?' he added a tinge nicer, but Harry started blinking and opened his eyes only to back away and hit the wall behind him when he realised that he was not in his own bed and secondly not even in his house but with a complete stranger he had briefly mistaken for his enraged uncle.

Slowly, memories came back to Harry and he instinctively drew the bedspread up to his chin and cowered forcefully against the wall.

_Why had he been sleeping in the bed and where did it come from so suddenly?_

'We started on the wrong foot' the man opposite to him strained himself. 'I am..._sorry_...that I frightened you. That was not my intention. Do you understand?'

_Nod._

'Do you know what just happened?'

Harry tried to think of an explanation but actually he didn't know how he had done it. It was like something inside him had wanted it. _That was so scary. What had he done? Yet again? _He had just wanted to feel safe, be left alone in his comforting world, and he certainly didn't want _that _guy to be part of it!

_But I can't tell him that! _Harry thought.

Although he wasn't sure how he'd done it he was sure that he was in trouble. Had he slept for too long? He felt absolutely horrible and didn't know which was worse: the feeling of energy being sucked out of his body or the absolute lack of understanding of what he had done yet again.

Slowly he shook his head.

'Do you want to know what happened?'

_What?_

Hoping he had not misinterpreted the intrigued look on the boy's face Severus continued with his plan.

'I think that I might be able to tell you a little more about your abilities and what has happened. It is nothing to worry about once you know what is happening and why – I can answer your questions if you have any and I am sure you do – but in return I want you to answer some questions I have. Do you understand what I am saying?'

_Nod._

'So do you agree?'

_Silence._

_Sigh._

'I am not going anywhere so you might as well talk to me.'

_At least the anger in the man's voice had disappeared, _Harry thought. _But why was he so scary? So like Uncle Vernon? One moment he'd be all nice and calm – intriguingly calm – and the next moment he'd scream and come running at you ready to get at you for no reason whatsoever! What was he supposed to think?_

Harry hung his shoulders and grabbed the panther's fang for solace. He wanted to be back with Tom, back with someone nice, someone who cared... Tears welled up in his eyes again but he refused to shed them in front of this man!

Severus sighed. This kid wasn't going to beat him when it came to stubbornness. But why was his mind betraying him? Usually he found an elegant solution to a problem within moments but here everything was so different... here smart didn't get you anywhere.

'As long as you stay in my house I want you to be honest and respectful. I guess I didn't make it particularly easy for you.' Actually Severus found this was stretching the truth quite a bit. He _had_ been very nice, for his standards.

Taking a deep breath Severus continued, refusing to go all soft but trying to stick to his tactics. He needed to make the boy feel safe – at least safe enough to avoid creating his impenetrable sphere again.

'I guess many things are new to you here so I should have explained first. You will nod if you understand what I am saying, right?'

_Nod._

'Fine. I was going to give you medicine. This medicine was specifically dosed to heal your injuries and rid you of all pain.'

_Silence._

'It was a very powerful medicine. I know you are not used to potions; they are more efficient than anything else you might have had before. They don't just make the symptoms go away, they cure the illness and heal the injuries right away - instantly, so to speak. Do you understand the concept?'

_Nod._

'I was mistaken when dosing your potion because I thought I had a good idea of the extent of your injuries. The potion was supposed to heal the laceration on your forehead and the bruises in your face. This potion doesn't have any side effects but can be dangerous when not brewed or dosed correctly. I was worried when the desired effect didn't show – your injuries are still visible to me. Do you understand what that means?'

Hesitantly Harry nodded. He knew he was in trouble from the moment the man had started talking. Just like Uncle Vernon. He would start on the lighter side, talk in a near amiable way, lure you into a false sense of security and talk you to the point where he wanted you – answering stupid questions and practically saying that you screwed up and did wrong.

Uncle Vernon always got so much satisfaction out of it by humiliating him like that. And when he had him at that point, exactly where he wanted him, Harry had to admit that he had been wrong, had lied, deserved to be punished.

Harrys initial fear turned into frustration and frustration into anger. _Why was he still being so stupid all the time? Years gone by and still he hadn't learnt!_

Severus noticed how Harry balled his fists and pressed his lips together tightly. _What the hell had he said now? Hadn't he just tried to make up with him and explain?_

He felt anger rising in him again and decided to stop this now before he lost control again. Rising from his seat Severus instantly regretted his action for the boy had backed into the wall again at that sight. With a sigh he added

'We will talk about this later. I will show you your room now. Obviously it won't do for you to stay and sleep in my living room so if you would please follow me!'

With that he turned around and left without looking back, taking the shuffling noise behind him as a clear indication that the boy was obeying him for once.

They moved up several staircases and passed many pictures hanging in the corridors. Harry couldn't help but feel distracted. Everything – really _everything_ – was moving here. This time they passed pictures with people in it. They were actually following his movement, gazing at him intently. Harry couldn't read their expressions but was too impressed to do or say anything else. If it weren't for the unfriendly occupant it would be quite an awesome place to live.

By the time they reached the top floor of the Manor Harry doubted that he could even remember his way back down to the living room, let alone the bathroom which had been pointed out to him on their way up.

'This' Severus began, opening the door to a small yet generously lit room which lay right next to his master bedroom 'will be your bedroom for the time being.'

He stepped inside and waited for the boy to follow. Harry took a look around and tentatively walked towards the windows. He didn't care that he had a big bed, a table, even stationary and a wardrobe which seemed to offer a variety of clothing for him or even the fact that his pillowcase had been brought up here, lying shunned in a corner – all he was interested in was the view he had.

He could see the forest in the distance, a lake, vast fields, and best of all – no boards, no more darkness!

_Why does it have to be so difficult?_ Harry thought saddened. Everything could be so nice here, if only Tom were here instead of that weird man. Even Aunt Petunia would have been the better choice for once! That Mr. Snape scared him, and he was in trouble with him. He had annoyed him and then – just like Uncle Vernon – he was going to make him admit that he was the freak who had messed up and got himself into trouble. And then he would punish him.

A snapping sound brought Harry back to reality. Turning around he looked at his host. _Had he looked slightly bemused?_ No, surely he had imagined for already the stern gaze on Severus' face was firmly in place.

_Probably he was making fun of me! _Harry thought bitterly. _Yeah, you are just like Uncle Vernon, aren't you? With all that sneering and glaring and changing your behaviour like a thousand times a minute!_

Snapping his fingers once more Severus made sure to have Harry's undivided attention.

'It is quite late already. We won't make 7 p.m. for dinner so I suggest you unpack and settle in; then we'll have quick supper and talk.

_Yeah right, 'talk', _Harry thought angrily, even more annoyed by the similarities this man's behaviour was showing to Uncle Vernon's.

'Just get it over with and leave me be then!' Harry snapped, defiantly holding Severus' gaze which was displaying a great deal of confusion.

'Mr. Potter, I don't know what you are talking about' he started but was interrupted again.

'My name is Harry. HARRY! GET IT?' he completely lost it now and for the first time this day he was acting like a distressed nine-year-old who was desperately trying to get rid of the pressure and pain that had built up constantly since things had started to change and unsettle his life forever. Enraged he started kicking the table next to his bed.

'Harry' Severus reluctantly started before stepping out of the way of an ink bottle being thrown at him, accompanied by an utmost look of resentment.

'THERE!' Harry screamed. 'There you go! Come on, get it over with! At least you've got a reason now!'

Severus was at a loss. _Was the child really thinking...?_ Taking a step back he grabbed the door handle, desperate for advice.

'That's enough!' Severus ordered the boy who had once more backed into the wall, grabbing his necklace forcefully. Tears were running down Harry's face now.

'Calm down. I will be back in half an hour and get you for supper.'

With that Severus stepped into the hallway and closed the door, ignoring the screamed desperate protests. Running his hands over his face he wondered what he was supposed to do with the boy.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he rested his hands on his eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths until a sound of bursting glass caught his attention, followed by an awkward silence.

x x x


	13. Dead Ends

**Chapter 13: Dead Ends**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended, this is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

_**Warnings: **_Lots of angst, hurt, comfort and severe emotional issues. As always you have been warned.

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 13 – Dead Ends**

It had been seven minutes to ten when a faint pop ended the silence in Albus' office. He had been sitting in silence for a while like he did every evening, pondering on the day's events. Looking up in mild surprise he saw a little parchment hovering in front of his desk. With a flick of his wrist he summoned it towards him and grabbed hold of it. It read

_Mr. Dumbledore. I need to speak to you immediately. I hope this reaches you. It's urgent. Tom Connor._

It had only been four hours since he had last seen the man. Albus wondered what could possibly have happened. This request to talk didn't really come as a surprise; honestly, he had expected this to happen sooner or later. After all, he had taken Harry out of Tom's temporary care and left him with many unanswered questions.

Time had been a pressing issue and he had been forced to act quickly, but as things settled down some recurring questions were bound to nag Tom until he got the answers he desired so much. What he hadn't expected was the talk to come so quickly.

Tom deserved to get answers. He had taken care of Harry and recognised what was going on when no one else had. Albus had failed to see the obvious. _Why hadn't he checked more often on the boy? _He had relied on Arabella and his own instincts and obviously he had been wrong. He owed it to Tom to not only offer him the plain truth, but some explanation to enable him to comprehend why he had chosen the way he had acted in.

_This is your own fault _a little voice inside his head said. _You always think you can deal with everything yourself - your correct choices in past situations have left you over-confident with this one. _

On the other hand – Albus had had his reasons for every decision he'd made, he assured himself. Maybe in due time everybody would eventually understand as well and he would learn if his foresight had betrayed him or led to a happier ending this time.

It was already dark outside and uncharacteristically chilly for a late summer's night. Grabbing his travelling cloak Albus left his office to walk outside the school grounds. A few minutes later he Apparated to Little Whinging.

x x x

Tom was sitting in his living-room. His kids were in bed. Finally he had managed to spend some time with them after what had felt like several days of neglecting them. It had been absolutely horrible to explain to them why they couldn't see Harry anymore for a while.

'See,' he had started, thoroughly miserable. 'Harry's uncle wasn't very nice to him and Harry was very sad because of that. He lives with a friend of his parents at the moment. Unfortunately it's quite far away so you can't just walk over and visit. He will come back though and then you can play with him again. I am sure he'd like that very much also. But for now I can't tell you when he will be back.'

_What a lousy explanation, _Tom thought. But things had just gotten worse. He had watched a movie with his kids and hoped to cheer them up (and, admittedly, to keep _his_ mind off Harry too). They treated themselves with some peanuts – which had been a very good idea until Sam accidentally kicked the bowl off the couch at a particularly funny scene in the movie and spilt nuts everywhere.

Once Mary Lou and Sam (with a little more protest than usual) were put to bed, he started cleaning up the living-room. Some peanuts had rolled behind the couch and were near impossible to retrieve. Lying flat on his stomach he tried to reach under the couch, feeling for any stray nuts but to no avail. Then he halted.

What he did feel was something else. Trying to reach it with his fingertips he pulled it from behind the couch and found it to be a little scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled note on it. Curiously he smoothed it, brushed the dust from it and read:

_I stole something from your bag. Please don't be mad. It's just for if I can't come back. Please don't hate me, Harry._

Tom was puzzled. Where did this note come from? Harry must have written it when he went back into the living-room to get his pillowcase. And he hadn't noticed! He had been too busy talking, whining how unfair it had been to explain to the boy why he couldn't stay. _And what bag did he refer to_?

Searching his pockets frantically Tom realised that Harry couldn't possibly have meant his jeans pockets – he would have noticed! Then his glimpse caught his doctor's bag which lay at the dining table. With a few quick strides he crossed the space and knelt down next to his bag, nearly ripping it in the attempt to quickly open it.

Brushing through the contents with his fingertips his heart sank at once – one of his scalpels was missing. _Dear heavens, what had the boy planned? Kill himself if he couldn't return? _

In desperation Tom searched for the little chest he had been given. _Where did he put it? _Realising that it was still in the jacket he had worn earlier the day he rushed into the hallway and took it out of its pocket.

_Please, please let this work! _Tom begged inwardly as he ran back into the living-room, scribbled a quick note onto one piece of parchment he had taken out of the chest and signed it with his name. With a small pop it disappeared, leaving him relieved and anxious at the same time.

He paced up and down his living-room for what felt like ages, shooting desperate glances at his watch until he finally heard a soft knock on the front door. Running back to the hallway he opened it and looked at the serene yet earnest expression of the man Harry owed his misery to. Tom interrupted even before Albus could begin to say he was prepared to give the man a better explanation than the one he'd left him with earlier.

'Listen,' Tom began. 'I found _this _in my living-room just a few minutes ago.'

Showing the surprised Headmaster the piece of scrap paper he continued.

'Harry must have written it while we were talking here this afternoon and somehow it fell off the table or wherever he put it. I didn't see it until moments ago.'

Albus studied the message intently and shot Tom a questioning look.

'A scalpel,' Tom replied immediately. 'He was talking about my doctor's bag. He saw it earlier when he was here and I just looked into it - a scalpel is missing. What is he up to? You _have_ to get him back, can't you see? Maybe he's planning to hurt himself or even worse!'

Thinking quickly Albus held a hand up to stop Tom's emotional rush and explained:

'I will need to contact my friend immediately. But there is no rush to get Harry back here: I am sure Severus is fully capable of keeping him safe. May I please use your fireplace?'

Puzzled, Tom didn't know if he wanted to lash out towards this ignorant old man or pity his absolute oblivion.

'Can't you see Harry needs help NOW? DON'T YOU CARE AT ALL?' Tom was outraged.

With a sad expression, Albus tried to put his hand reassuringly onto Tom's shoulder but he brushed it off angrily.

'Please Mr. Connor. Tom. Trust me. I need to contact my friend and therefore I need your fireplace. You know that we use different means of communication as you just experienced yourself by passing this message to me.'

With a flick of his fingers he produced the piece of parchment that had reached him a few minutes ago and held it up as if trying to support his point.

Although Tom was impressed by the display of magic still unfamiliar to him, his desperation grew.

'Listen we don't have a fireplace. We only have a tiled stove. I can't see how you will communicate with either one anyway so please could we just get Harry NOW?'

'Don't worry,' Albus phrased, completely unnecessarily. 'There is another option to contact Severus. Wait here. I will be right back.'

With that he left the desperate doctor at his doorstep and made his way around the house. He needed an undisturbed place and silence.

Tom tried to see what Albus was doing although he remained at his doorstep. He could barely see the outlines of the old man who had walked to the corner of his house. For a moment nothing happened, and then a blue orb appeared in front of Albus. Tom could only see its glow for the Headmaster was blocking his view: he appeared to be talking to that orb! After a few moments, the glow briefly changed to a shade of red before it dissipated. Then Albus returned.

'Everything has been taken care of. If you would be so kind as to step inside, maybe we can have another talk in your living-room. It would be a little more private than out here on your doorstep.'

When the clearly confused and angry expression on Tom's face only hardened he added with a tone of finality

'Severus is informed and Harry is well. Well. _Unharmed_. Please let us step inside so I can explain.'

With that Tom was guided inside. Albus sat down on the couch where he had seen the bashed boy lying before, preparing himself for the talk to come.

x x x

Tom wasn't even sure what to feel anymore. He was simply outraged. Balling his fists, his white knuckles were a good estimate of how much anger had started to well up in his chest. He watched the Headmaster warily, teeth clenched.

_How could that man be so ignorant? He was responsible for Harry's misery in the first place, and now he wouldn't even bother to end his torment?_

'Ask.'

_What?_

'Ask,' Albus repeated. 'I can see that you are understandably confused. I failed to answer all the questions you might have had - once you were over the initial shock, I might add. It is only natural that you would feel like this. Maybe it will work best if you are forthright and ask about what is upsetting you most and I will offer you any explanation I can.'

Tom didn't see how talking was supposed to help Harry now. _Now_, of all times. But since this stubborn old man was apparently unwilling to do anything else than bloody TALK he wanted to speed up the process. After all, he wasn't in charge here. He didn't even know where Harry had been taken. If he wanted to help him, he had to play along. Trying to think of what would the most direct and quick way, he started.

'How do you know Harry hasn't hurt himself yet or isn't about to do it?'

'I spoke to Severus and he told me so' was the plain answer.

'How could you _possibly_ have spoken to him? You just conjured this blue orb thing.'

Albus nodded politely.

'This blue orb you saw was a _vocisphera_. You have realised by now that we use means of communication which are very different from yours. Some can be used by any wizard to contact another one at a predefined place – for example his fireplace.'

Tom drew his breath as if trying to object but closed his mouth again. He guessed that asking more questions would only superficially lengthen this already ridiculous conversation.

'Some means of communication,' Albus continued unperturbed, 'are rather advanced and are therefore rarely used by wizards, but nevertheless are highly effective. They allow you to communicate with a certain person even if you don't know his or her exact whereabouts – as long as this person is capable of using these means of communication, too.'

'Like you try to call someone but don't have his number?' Tom suggested helplessly.

'Yes, you might put it this way,' Albus agreed as if this settled the matter.

'So you talked to this friend and he told you that Harry is alright?'

Albus sighed. It wasn't quite that simple. Yet, he steeled himself to be completely honest this time. No omissions.

x x x

Severus' heart sank at the sound of shattering glass. _The little brat couldn't have been that stupid, could he? _

Whirling around, he nearly broke the door down as he rushed back into the room, wand at the ready. As the door busted open Severus could see one of the big windows next to the writing desk completely broken. Some shards lay on the floor but most of it appeared to have fallen to the other side. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Crossing the space to the window in quick strides, he tried to steel himself for what he might see once leaning out of the window. After all, this was the fourth floor!

Severus held his breath and leaned over the windowsill, searching the area below. There were some more shards lying on the ground and a rather large object, though it was far too small to be the boy! As he squeezed his eyes, trying to make out what was lying there, Severus perceived a muffled but yet audible sniff. It didn't come from outside, it had been inside the room!

_Sniff._

There it was again. He turned around and faced the bed which appeared to be untouched. Wand firmly gripped with his right hand he pointed it towards the bed and withdrew the sheets with the other, crouching down to get a good look underneath.

His grip relaxed marginally at the sight of the frightened but apparently unharmed ball which had curled up in the far corner.

'Mr. ... Harry.' He tried in the softest tone he could produce (which at least sounded like he wouldn't kill the boy instantly). 'You will come out there at once.'

_Silence._

'I will count to three and you will come forward.'

Nothing happened.

'One.'

When still nothing happened Severus grew a little anxious. What was going to happen if he reached three and the boy refused to come forth? If he tried dragging him out of there he might produce his sphere again and become untouchable. That was the trouble with bluffing. If the bluff didn't work, you were in trouble. But he had to do something!

'Two.'

The slightest stir.

'Thr...'

'Wait!' It was barely a whisper.

And then, as if in slow motion, the little ball uncurled and started to crawl towards him. Taking a few steps back Severus tried to encourage Harry's behaviour. He didn't want to close in on him too soon - afraid to scare him into shielding himself again - but the boy kept coming closer. He had crept towards Severus, eyes downcast, until he could look at the man's shoes. Again he whispered barely audible.

'I am sorry.'

Wand in one hand, the other fist resting on his knee, Severus managed to force a 'What?' but was too irritated by the boy's drastic change in behaviour to hide his confusion. Harry was now practically lying at his feet, his small hands reaching for his shoes as he automatically backed away a step in repulsion.

'I know I've been bad. I am a freak and you have to put up with me.'

_What? _

'Please don't do it. I know I deserve it. But please don't, I'll just do it myself.'

Gasping, Severus thought Harry had lost his mind. The boy must have confused him with his uncle, probably because he had either said or done something strongly resembling him. But Harry hadn't put up a sphere like he did in the living-room earlier, so how was this different? What on earth could he do to himself?

This child was so enigmatic. Hadn't he just thrown a perfect temper-tantrum and smashed a window practically asking for a thrashing? And the next moment nothing of that rebellious behaviour seemed to be left. What was he supposed to do?

Severus shoved his wand back up his sleeve and crouched down, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and started shaking him lightly as if trying to shake whatever had obviously possessed him out.

'Look at me,' he pressed, but the boy only screwed his face in pain, obviously anticipating the first blows to come any second.

Giving Harry another little shake Severus repeated 'Look at me at once.'

When no blows came, Harry opened one eye the tiniest bit to see why nothing was happening. _This was all wrong. _

Opening the other eye, too, he stared blankly, without actually seeing.

'Harry,' the voice spoke again. He could only feel the firm grip around his shoulders.

'Look at me. Do I look like your uncle?'

Cautiously Harry opened both eyes now, taking in the situation. _This wasn't right at all. No one knew their secret, just Uncle Vernon. He'd been so sure it must have been him. _

x x x

'_I am counting to three and you will come forth at once!' Vernon had bellowed. Harry only pushed himself further into the wall as he hid underneath his bed, wishing he could disappear altogether. _

_Uncle Vernon had been mad all day. His behaviour had been erratic and scary although Harry wasn't even sure what he had done wrong in the first place. Aunt Petunia was out with Dudley and he had been doing chores but apparently nothing he had done had sufficed. Uncle Vernon was mad and he needed someone to take it out on. _

_Waiting and knowing what was coming anyway was bad. It was even worse than being thrashed, for that had to be over at some point. Just waiting and dreading the moment when the explosion was inevitable was always the most tormenting thing you could imagine. _

_Harry knew how to deal with that situation – he'd just have to provoke his Uncle so much that he couldn't put off his anger anymore and would get at him – and then it'd be over. _

_But as theory works well in thought and thought only, Harry had regretted his actions as soon as his Uncle had finally lost his temper and came charging at him. Being small and agile, he had been much quicker and fled to his room, hiding underneath the bed. He heard Uncle Vernon hollering up the stairs, each step groaning under his massive weight as he made his way to Harry's room. _

_Purple-faced and completely out of breath, Vernon had leaned down and tried to grasp Harry with his fleshy hands, but his arms had been too short. _

_Enraged by his lack of reach he had started to pull the bed away from the wall. It was too heavy to shift much but moved enough to pinch Harry's fingers. He screamed in pain, finally managing to pull his hands away from the bed post that had trapped his hand so unexpectedly. _

'_You will come out here at once.' Vernon had repeated, the purple colour of his face slowly changing into a menacing shade of blue as if he was about to suffocate. 'I will count to three and boy you will be sorry if you don't come out there voluntarily.'_

_Harry understood one thing perfectly fine – he was already in trouble. How could this be any worse? He'd felt sick all day knowing that Uncle Vernon was going to get at him at some point and had hoped that it would be over quickly but, now that he was here, he just wished to appease the man and make his anger go away._

'_Please Uncle Vernon' he started pleading. 'Please don't be mad I am sorry I will be better!' But it was no good. Suddenly he couldn't see his Uncle anymore. The bedspread had slipped from the bed as it had been shifted and was blocking his view nearly completely. He carefully inched forwards when suddenly he felt an iron grip around his neck, dragging him from underneath the bed and slamming him into the wall hard. _

_He couldn't even gasp as his windpipe seemed to be completely blocked. Blood was running from a cut on his lip. Flailing his hands and feet he tried to get away but couldn't even reach the floor as he was being held against the wall a metre above the bed. The last thing he remembered was his Uncle's face coming very close to his own, whispering. _

'_You don't deserve to live and do you know why? One: Your mom was a freak, she died. Two: Your dad was a freak, he died. Three: This will be your turn._

_One...two...thr...'_

_Then Harry passed out. _

x x x

'Do I look like your uncle?'

Harry looked up again as he was shaken out of his flashback.

'Look at me' Severus urged, leaning in very close on Harry as if thinking that the boy would at least see Severus' obvious lack of resemblance to that walrus of an uncle in close-up, but it only seemed to make it worse.

'No, no..' Harry had started crying now, squirming and trying to loosen the painful grip around his shoulders.

'I will let go if you look at me,' Severus offered.

Slowly Harry looked up and felt the pressure around his shoulders diminish. Taking a step backwards he reached with his hands behind his back and started rocking back and forth.

'_What_ will you do to yourself?' Severus pressed.

'It's the only way.' Harry whispered conspiratorially. 'It's the only way.'

'What on earth are you talking about?' Severus asked, now completely nonplussed. The child had gone lunatic. Definitely.

Harry tilted his head oddly and leaned forward again, as if going to confide something very secret to him. Unconsciously Severus held his breath, taking a little step towards the boy.

'But that's how it works,' Harry whispered.

'One: My mom was a freak, she died.'

Severus gasped, Harry nodded seriously.

'Two: My dad was a freak, he died.'

Harry took a few steps back while saying this, Severus too perplexed to say anything at all.

'Three: I am a freak.' Harry breathed. 'And this is where I die.'

And with that he brought his hands forth. Severus watched in shock as the little boy - firmly gripping the handle of a blade with his hand - raised it to his heart.

'_Expelliarmus_!' he cried and with a ting the scalpel flew out of Harry's hand and landed a few metres away from him with another metallic chink.

x x x

_What on earth had just happened? _

Trying to take in the bizarre situation the puzzled Potions Master made a few tentative steps towards Harry who hadn't moved a muscle of yet. A few more steps – still the boy didn't move.

Then he smiled oddly.

Severus didn't trust his eyes.

Slowly Harry's lips moved but didn't make a sound. He leaned in closer and could finally make out what the boy was saying.

'You don't want me dead?' he breathed.

Deep green shimmering eyes were looking at Severus. Eyes he knew too well.

He didn't even care if he was going to blame his following actions on the more than bizarre events, his complete confusion, or the lack of witnesses, but as for now, Severus didn't back away as he suddenly felt little limbs flailing around his waist and grabbing tightly; hugging him. The fragile boy was sobbing silently.

'You don't want me dead,' he repeated.

Still perplexed, Severus started to stroke the boy's hair gently, trying to calm himself. He had to get the boy to talk sense again! _This was ridiculous! And where the hell had this knife come from?_ He was going to kill the Headmaster...

Kneeling down in front of Harry he looked at him, their eyes level.

'Listen closely' he tried in his nicest voice and for the first time it didn't sound cold or distant, but oddly truthful.

'Whatever you just tried to make me do or do to yourself - be assured, I do not want you dead. I want to help you. I will NOT harm you.'

Those deep green eyes surveyed him carefully.

'No?'

_Nod. _

'Don't you want to hit me?' Harry asked.

'No.'

'Maybe you want to kick me?' he tested carefully.

'NO!'

'And you don't want me dead?'

'Why the hell would I want you dead?'

'Because I can feel that you hate me,' Harry whispered, nodding lightly as if to underline his point.

_Silence._

x x x

'So you are saying that Harry actually tried to manipulate me?' Tom was incredulous, but he had calmed down considerably.

'I am afraid so.' Albus nodded sadly. 'You must understand that I have been ignorant for a very long time. I didn't see what was happening to Harry in that house and therefore didn't intervene. I feared that not all would go well with his family, but I put it off for the greater good.'

'The blood wards?' Tom offered.

_Nod._

'He has to be protected from that powerful wizard I told you about. In his current state he is completely unable to do so by himself. He needs to regain his confidence and trust: that is where he will acquire the much-needed strength to live through all that lies ahead of him.'

'Still… I cannot see how Harry has been manipulating me in that matter. How do you know?'

Albus pondered for a while. Then he continued.

'Do you remember how I told you that I performed a memory charm on Harry's uncle?

'Yes. You said you altered his memory, _somehow_. And that he wouldn't be able to recall the day's actual events, but would instead believe that Harry was at a friends' place.'

'I wasn't being entirely truthful there,' Albus admitted and was rewarded with some angry yet curious glares.

'Before I altered his memory I looked into his mind in an attempt to determine the extent of Harry's abuse. By doing so I was able to grasp what Harry has been going through. I gained a better understanding of how damaged his little soul must be.' He finished sadly.

'So you _knew_ about all that?' Tom was upset to say the least. 'And you just let his uncle get away with it? Why didn't you at least tell me? I didn't know anything at all that was going on in Harry's mind until he told me something himself! Well, at least I didn't have to trick it out of his bastard of an Uncle!'

'And there's the point. I had to pry memories out of Harry's uncle to understand a little of what has been happening. But Harry _confided_ something in you. Do you remember that he wouldn't speak to me at all when I came to collect him?'

Thinking this through Tom remembered, with a hint of satisfaction, that indeed the boy had refused to speak to or be touched by the Headmaster at all. He nodded.

'You would agree with me that Harry needs to gain trust and confide in people.'

_Nod. _

'And you also agree that someone has to know exactly what has been going on to be able to judge the situation appropriately.'

'And that someone would be you?' Tom sneered.

'It is not as much of a rewarding position as you might think. Yes. I do know a lot of what has been going on in Harry's life now. I can imagine the extent of his injuries and his pain. However – ' he ignored the protest Tom was about to give – 'However this leaves me at the outsiders' position for good.'

'What do you mean?'

'As much as it might be beneficial to know what has been happening to Harry in order to make – what I hope are – right choices, it also brings with it a huge disadvantage. I won't be able react genuinely to any of his behaviour or attempts to test me.'

Tom felt his anger ebbing away and reluctantly admitted to himself that there was some logic behind these words after all. Still he wasn't completely satisfied.

'Go on then.' He urged.

'Well.' Albus had started stroking his beard again. He wanted to say it right this time. No omissions.

'The abused child's mind is hard to understand, often too cryptic for the average bystander. I am sure that your knowledge of behaviourisms of abused children is very large and that you are fully capable of understanding difficult and even most complex mannerisms, seemingly giving you an advantage over others. But apart from all your knowledge you can err too and overlook these signs. When it comes to people who we love or who become very dear to us, we might fail to recognise the warning signs they give us.'

Tom leaned his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair. _Was the Headmaster insulting him or helping him? Where was he going with this?_

'Come to the point.' He grew a little impatient. His wariness wasn't helping.

'Harry trusted you because he was able to test you with his behaviour. You only knew what he chose to tell you, making you unbiased at the time.'

'What do you mean he tested me?'

'Did he ever refuse to speak to you, anger you, and annoy you, possibly even give you an opportunity to treat him however you wanted if you agreed to keep him here?'

Tom nodded.

'And how did you react?'

'What do you mean?' Tom snapped. 'How did I react? Of course I didn't give in, nor did I let him provoke me. Do you think I'd hit the child, unable to see what he was trying to do?' Indignation accompanied these words.

'Oh no, not at all.' Albus tried to appease him. 'But I fear that is possibly what Harry may have thought.'

When no reaction came, he continued.

'Harry was forced to grow up in a very unstable environment. He learnt only to trust himself and to fear those around him. He had no consistency in his frequently changing environment. Behaviour which would be rewarded one day would be punished the next. For a child, these consequences are catastrophic. I can only imagine that Harry adapted coping mechanisms of his own which unfortunately are as unstable as the home environment he's had for the last several years.'

'But you said he tried to manipulate me. Explain.'

'Well.' Again Albus pondered for a while. 'Please don't misunderstand me. I will only offer you my opinion.'

Tom forced a strained nod.

'I think,' Albus continued, 'that Harry reached a point with you where blatant and outright provocation would not work. This might have confused him for he'd learnt that this behaviour would usually bear foreseeable consequences. On the one hand it might have given him the impression that he could trust you and that you really wouldn't hurt him physically. But once he learnt that he could not stay here, it might have upset him so much he chose to draw on more subtle means you might not have recognised.'

'Such as?' Tom was growing more impatient by the second.

Albus pointed towards the little note Harry had scribbled.

'When Harry realised that he couldn't bargain with you to allow him to stay, even offering that you could treat him however you saw fit if you kept him, he had to fall back upon other means such as this note. By making you believe he might actually hurt himself he got you to exactly the point where you are now. Your first reaction was to get Harry back as soon as you saw this note and that was what the boy wanted.'

Screwing up his face, Tom refused to see the truth behind this.

'Are you saying he was trying to emotionally blackmail me?' That was a term he had heard and used with other parents and kids as well when working with them. He knew all those mechanisms, but with Harry – no, that was different!

'I am saying that you are a very compassionate and sensitive man, Mr. Connor. Your desperation to help Harry might have caused you to overlook these subtle signs.'

'Well,' Tom wanted to fight back. This wasn't really fair! 'Well there wouldn't have been any need for him to act this way in the first place if you hadn't torn him away from me!'

_Silence. _

Tom hesitated. He was actually talking like Harry was _his_ child, as if he belonged to _him_. Well, he had wanted to help him. And he had known fully well that Harry was _not_ his own kid. Hadn't he?

'You are absolutely right,' Albus offered generously. 'But you have to keep in mind what I told you about his unstable environment. It forced him to adapt behaviours which are as erratic and unpredictable as the behaviours his relatives displayed towards him. Unfortunately even if he would have experienced a stable environment here – his coping mechanisms would not have been quite so foreseeable because of the main problem: Harry's magic.'

'And I am not fit to control it.' Tom finished, a little more genuinely than he had intended to. Again there it was – he was being told that he was simply unqualified.

'So,' he continued, trying to keep his voice down. 'What's so special about your friend that he can deal with Harry's _erratic_ _behaviour_, as you called it?'

Albus had feared that eventually they would come to this point.

'Well. I want to continue to be straightforward with you,' he started. 'I've known Severus since he was a little child and I trust him. Also,' he added quickly, seeing the sour look on Tom's face, 'he is a very capable wizard. He can deal with Harry's emotional trauma by earning his trust and in the meanwhile protect him from his magical outbursts which are rather uncontrollable for an unskilled wizard.'

Tom nodded, but still some things didn't fit together.

'So did you just dump Harry with Severus and tell him nothing about the boy's history at all?'

'As I told you. Harry needs an unbiased mind he can test and work with. Someone who is unaware of what has been going on in detail and will respond in a genuine, unbiased manner. And, you have to admit,' Albus added sadly. 'Harry's injuries bespoke volumes; Severus might not have been so unknowing after all.'

'Lastly' Albus had adapted his tone of finality again. 'We must not underestimate the power of Harry's mothers' last wish. Before she died she confided something very personal to me. Which I _cannot_ and _will_ not share with you.' He added sternly. 'Severus will learn of this eventually but he will only be able to do so if he genuinely earns the boy's trust. And this he can only do if he is unbiased. As much as knowing more about the boy's history might help him at present, it could also ruin his only chance to understand Lily's last wish and I _will not take this chance from him_.'

This was it. Tom was weary and tired and this was too enigmatic. This cloud of confusion seemed to become a constant fixture in his mind now that everything had changed so drastically in his life.

'Tell me then,' he finally managed. 'How do you know that Harry hasn't harmed himself by _now_?'

'I spoke with Severus. He told me that they had already come across this little obstacle and that Harry is just fine.'

It pained Albus to see the crestfallen face the doctor buried in his hands.

'The power of abuse is more destructive than the most vicious enemy we could imagine to fight, for it hurts you just as much as the victim you love, but you are left with so few options to deal with everything.'

'But,' Tom started, trying to hold back his frustration. 'Why didn't you at least _take care_ of that Uncle of his? I am sure there were several things you could have done.'

'Yes, indeed. But,' he added wisely, 'yet again you must keep in mind that retaliation, even though it might satisfy our hunger for revenge, would not help Harry deal with his past. We cannot take this important burden out of his hand. If we deal with Vernon now, that leaves nothing left for Harry to face once he is up to it. I believe that he needs to come to terms with his past – no matter how long it takes – and that involves finally facing his Uncle and dealing with him in his own time.'

A long silence followed this conversation.

x x x

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	14. Truths

**Chapter 14:**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended, this is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

I know it's been a while. Actually it's been a couple of years (now how often do you read that?) Most of you probably didn't expect me to post another chapter at all and I am sorry that I kept you waiting for so long. I guess I didn't expect posting another one myself, but here we go. I hope that I will be able to finish my story and would be happy for any reviews you have to offer.

_**Warnings: nothing specific **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 14 – Misunderstandings**

Vernon was sitting in his chair and tried to ignore his aching head. For some reason he couldn't remember a lot of the last day's events. There were bits and pieces of memory which crossed his mind but nothing was tangible. Like a TV show one watches in passing: you realize that something happened and have a general idea of what it was, but if asked you couldn't actually retell it.

He remembered that he had gotten drunk… various times. And he remembered that he had been mad at the boy. Mad as hell. A single memory tried to make its way to the surface of his consciousness in which his nephew had returned home with a stranger who threatened him. He couldn't remember for sure though.

_Where the hell is the boy? _Vernon had thought at first. He wasn't used to not having someone around to be the target of his frustrations. Not even his wife or Dudley were nearby. If she was out she would usually leave a note.

_Hadn't she left a note?_

Vernon had been searching the house with the feeling that he had already done this before but he had only realized two things. First, there wasn't a note to be found. Second, everybody was gone.

In a fit of self-declared genius he had checked for their suitcases and trunks; sure enough they were gone. Even the two or three filthy rags the boy had obtained during the last years were gone. Many of the doors in the house were broken.

_Petunia wouldn't have left with the boys,_ Vernon thought. _Well the boy and the _freak_ that is._

Taking a detour to the cabinet on his way back to his chair he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and heaved his heavy features into the groaning furniture. His mind was more clouded than usual when he drank. Usually he would have a terrible headache (check) and blackouts (check). But this time it was like he remembered nothing; like a vision you see in front of your inner eye too blurred to make any sense as of yet.

Immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the figure in the front yard drawing steadily closer to the house.

x x x

'I do not hate you.'

_You lie. _

'No I don't.'

Harry looked up to the man completely dressed in black as if to underline his current mood.

_Had he just heard his thoughts? No,_ Harry thought, _probably this wasn't hard to guess. _

Severus racked his mind on how to proceed. Everything he had tried had gone royally wrong. Being stern had frightened the boy. Being lenient had made the boy suspicious (and Severus uncomfortable for that matter). Also he felt uneasy about how quickly he had lost his temper today. He wasn't used to the fact that something was out of his control. That _he_ was out of control.

Years of practice and _bad_ experiences had trained him to keep control over his emotions at any time. Not to let any feelings or emotions betray what he felt or thought. It had been so crucial, so vital the last years. Why did his ability to shrug all this off betray him now?

Sometimes kids say things that can't really be commented or discussed. One of these things would be _I hate you_. But how did it work with _You hate me_?

Realizing that this issue was too messed up to be sorted out in one night's progression Severus decided to get on with other necessary things which promised to be easier to handle and provided some day-to-day-routine at least. Maybe it was best tactics not to comment on the dramatic events that had just happened in order to keep the boy from producing his magical sphere again by feeling pressured. Or pondering suicidal thoughts. Or doing something stupid. _Anything_ stupid. With the necessary safety precautions they could work it out in due time.

'You must be hungry.'

It seemed easier not to phrase any more questions at the moment which would only lead to more struggles. Maybe telling they boy what to do or what to _feel _would work for the moment.

'As I said we will have supper by 7 p.m. usually.' Snape started. 'Today has been very busy and I will make an exception for you. I will have my House El… I will have some dinner prepared and we will eat in the dining hall. It will be a good chance for you to find your way through the house and get acquainted with everything.'

Harry nodded, still eying the man suspiciously. _Maybe this was another test._

A cool breeze reminded Severus that the window of the boy's bedroom was still broken. He drew out his wand (ignoring the boy's fearful expression at the sight of it) and made a fluent movement whispering something inaudible to Harry's ears.

The shards rose from the ground and reformed their initial shape of the bedroom's window. Just for good measure and to avoid future shocks like the one Severus had suffered today, he decided to put an Unbreakable Charm on the window (and all the other windows in the manor for good measure).

'You may want to close your mouth, Harry.' Severus commented snidely. 'It doesn't look very intelligent.'

Puzzled, Harry closed his mouth.

'Now. If you will please accompany me to the dining room.'

With this he turned around and started walking, waiting for the already familiar shuffling noise behind him.

_I have to make sure that he hasn't brought anything else dangerous with him,_ Severus pondered and his mind wandered to the panther's fang around Harry's neck. After all it looked quite sharp.

The lack of shuffling little feet behind him made Severus turn around in indignation. A couple of strides away the boy had stopped in front of a picture. The inhabitant, a young lady cradling a sleeping baby in her arms, was eying Harry with a mix of suspicion and compassion.

_How funny these moving paintings are, _Harry thought.

The next moment he looked up and his gaze met the impatient stare of the man he was supposed to stay an indefinite amount of time with in the future. Hurrying he made a few quick strides to keep up.

_At least he was somehow a bit more normal again now_, Harry pondered. Being all weird and unpredictable with those funny emotions as if he would care had been a new and unsettling experience for Harry. Receiving commands and orders, that was more like it. _This Harry understood. _

Even before he had reached the man, Severus had turned around and resumed walking to the dining room. Harry was sure that they hadn't taken the same way downstairs as they had on their way up. He would never be able to remember all those staircases, doors and hallways!

In no time they were back in the dining room. The bed Harry had previously occupied had vanished and two chairs facing each other invited both to take a seat on the large dining table in between. Gesturing to Harry which seat to take, Severus sat down in the other and snapped his fingers. Immediately several plates and bowls with vegetables, meat and potatoes appeared as well as a big drinking glass with water that materialized next to Harry's plate.

'Help yourself.' Snape ordered and made sure that his offer sounded rather like a stern command than some kind of hospitality (after all the boy shouldn't get too comfortable).

Intrigued Harry looked up.

_Sigh. _

'WHAT it is now?' Severus rolled his eyes. _Didn't the boy even know how to serve himself? __Certainly_he_ was not going to steward him. _

Helping himself to a large serving of vegetables, a small piece of meat and some potatoes, Severus tried to ignore the boy for a while. He was half way through his dinner when he finally lost his patience.

He laid his fork down deliberately. The effect was not missed by the little boy who had observed him closely.

'Why are you not eating?'

_Silence._

'If you are under the impression that I might attempt to poison you with my cooking…' Severus began impatiently.

_No. This was all wrong._

'Then you should be sure by now that is hasn't had any unpleasant effects on me and is therefore quite safe for you to eat as well.' He closed snidely.

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again, afraid to say something wrong. _Surely this man was still testing him. _

'What do you want to say?' Severus inquired.

Harry didn't know how to put this. It had always been so obvious with the Dursley's. Obviously this man didn't know how things with him worked at all.

'I am not to eat before you are finished.' He offered carefully.

'And why is that Harry?' 'That's the rule.' Harry continued, a little more confident now. When it came to rules, especially Uncle Vernon's rules, he was good with them. It felt familiar.

'I can't remember setting up a rule ordering you to let your dinner go cold.'

'What?'

Snape placed his elbows on the dining table and rested his head in his hands for a few seconds. Stroking his hair out of his face he stood up, causing the boy to back into his chair. Standing opposite to him, hands leaned on the table, he tried to put on a stern voice and continued.

'You are hungry.'

Harry nodded hesitantly.

'I had food prepared which should be very nourishing for a growing boy your age.'

Now Harry's head hung.

'I didn't go through this trouble to see the food become cold because you won't touch it.'

_Nod. _Those reproaches Harry knew well.

Walking around the table in two quick strides Severus grabbed some potatoes and a piece of meat and plunked it onto Harry's plate, topping it off with loads of vegetables. Then he pivoted on the spot and walked back to his seat. His robes would have billowed imperially while doing this, but remembering that he only wore black jeans, a leather belt and a black shirt, the desired effect was somewhat diminished.

Slowly Harry started to fork into his food. It tasted magnificent. But still…

_This was all so wrong. _Harry thought.

With Uncle Vernon you had to wait until he'd had his fourth serving. That was if Dudley had _left_ him a fourth serving, as his cousin's appetite was equally ravenous. Petunia would always help herself to a handful of vegetables and occasionally a piece of meat and watch her boys dig in while she tried to maintain her figure.

As for Harry… if he was allowed to sit at the table (which Uncle Vernon had allowed more often lately since he figured that it required less effort on his behalf: if he could make the boy miserable by watching him eat as Harry's own stomach was grumbling, it meant that he didn't have to come up with other ways to do so) he had to wait until everybody was finished. Then Petunia would take their plates and scrap everything that was left on to Harry's plate. He had a couple of minutes now to dig into the piles of vegetables Dudley had left. (Although he didn't want Harry to get his food, he couldn't bring himself to eat that many vegetables himself). Soon Petunia would usher him into the kitchen to clean up the mess _he_ had caused.

And now this man really wanted Harry to eat _with _him.

Grateful that he wasn't forced to explain his confused thoughts he ate his dinner. Although it wasn't overly much Harry's grumbling stomach started to protest when he had eaten a couple of potatoes and what seemed to be a weeks' worth of vegetables. He just wasn't used to eating that much and soon his ravenous hunger turned into a sickening feeling. He kept prodding his food with the fork and ate obediently until he heard a deliberate cough from the other side of the table.

'I believe you are finished by now.' Severus said.

Grateful Harry put away his fork and stood up.

'Where do you think you are going?'

_Uhm. _

Automatically Harry hat gotten up and expected to be ordered to clean up the mess he had produced. After all, this man hadn't been happy for him to be dumped at his home in the first man would be even less amused if Harry messed it up and caused him extra work.

Harry sat down again.

With a dismissive wave of his hand (again the dramatic effect was lost with the obvious lack of long billowing sleeves) Severus made the dirty dishes vanish and two small bowls with fruit appeared in front of them.

Annoyed, he realized that the boy was less than thrilled about the dessert he was being offered. Maybe the brat preferred chocolate pudding or some other sort of sweets, but he wasn't going to get any in this house.

Giving his new ward a stern look he started eating his own fruits.

Harry copied him and was sure to throw up soon if he didn't stop eating. Absent-mindedly he started rubbing his wrist which was still hurting. A wave of exhaustion washed over him once again.

Severus hadn't missed the gesture. He had been thinking about a way to determine the extent of the boy's injuries without pressing him too much. Surely there were magical ways to get the result instantly, but forcing it out of the boy with him noticing didn't seem like a good way to build trust. On the other hand he didn't want to risk causing further harm by not knowing how to treat the boy properly. While he pondered he realized that Harry's eyelids seemed to be getting heavier and heavier. A sudden squishing sound drew his full attention to his little guest.

Harry's head had just dropped into his bowl of fruits.

With a smirk Severus got up from his table and walked towards Harry. Drawing his wand he had actually intended to levitate Harry to his bed upstairs but, standing in front of this pitiable boy now, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he stowed his wand back in his sleeve and lifted Harry's face out of the bowl.

While lifting him up he muttered some inaudible words and the remnants of their dinner vanished from the bruised face. With more care than necessary so as to not wake up the boy he walked towards the bedrooms upstairs.

_Your sleep potion has always been the best._ He thought. _Ingenious._

x x x

If there was anything Severus Snape could trust in unconditionally, it was his ability to brew a reliable potion. A sleep potion wasn't exceptionally difficult but still it had worked and that's all that mattered. However, he'd also managed to successfully combine it with a dreamless potion which was certainly more challenging. On their own they would work ideally but taste bad. Combined they usually had side effects or became ineffective. But this time both seemed to have worked. This way hopefully the boy was able to relax a little and sleep without having any nightmares.

Albus hadn't said anything but at least Severus expected the boy to have nightmares.

_That's what it was like back then. _The little voiced commented.

_Shut up. _Severus replied.

Severus and his little bundle reached the small bedroom upstairs. The house elf had already lit a fire and it spread a cosy warmth in Harry's new bedroom. There the four-poster stood, inviting, covered with fresh sheets and a nice bedspread.

Severus hadn't known what the boy could possibly like so he had gone for a neutral decor. _And after all this isn't a holiday!_ He added a mental note.

Placing him carefully on the bed he regarded the small boy's stature. Harry looked very thin and fragile, even for a 9-year-old. He would have to make sure to feed him properly or the Headmaster would probably accuse him of deliberately starving the boy. As if he needed to succumb to such low means to get rid of the Potter boy. He would fulfill his duty as had been imposed on him by the Headmaster and then get rid of this inconvenience as quickly as possible.

Slowly Severus drew his wand from his sleeve, ready to cast the spell Madame Pomfrey had shown him long ago, for a different reason though.

Back then he had had a nasty time spying for the Order. The Death Eaters had been more alert than usual and Voldemort liked to test his loyalty now and then. Often he had returned to his house from meetings hardly alive with nowhere to go. No one had cared. He had learnt to cast a spell upon himself to detect all sorts of injuries, inflictions, damages and even (or especially) magical wounds in order to treat himself as best as he could with the potions he'd learnt to prepare on a regular basis. That's what it was all about. _Always be prepared_.

But this time was different. He hadn't known how to prepare himself or what for. He had been thrown together with this pitiable child, _James Potter's child,_ and then left alone.

Reaching out to perform the spell as he had ever so often he suddenly felt something pulling at his sleeve. Startled he looked around but obviously no one was there. No house elf would dare to disturb him and apart from that he would have noticed somebody else's presence right away. At first he guessed at the boy's impenetrable sphere but he could neither see it, nor could the boy possibly produce it, being knocked out by his potion. _Or could he? _

'_Don't.' _

This was not _his_ inner voice. Furrowing his brow he lifted his wand hand again and again he heard a subtle whisper accompanied by the feeling of having his hand shoved away.

'_This is not the right way.' _

Confused Severus turned around, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

It couldn't possibly be true.

_Not her voice. _

'_You have done great, Severus' _she comforted. _'But this is not the right way. You have to gain his trust. He will let you in if you only give him time. Trust him.'_

Startled Severus let his hand drop. Stowing his wand back in his sleeve he took a few steps back, leaned against the wall next to the warm fireplace and started massaging his temples again. Watching the fire crackle was comforting and relaxing. He needed to think.

Somehow whatever was protecting the boy (he couldn't bring himself to believe that he actually did it himself and deliberately) seemed to be exceptionally aware of what was happening or being done.

He had thought it to be a clever move to knock out the boy with a potion and then perform the much needed diagnostic spells. He wouldn't have put the boy into the awkward situation of telling him himself what had happened. If he ever did.

_Awkward for him or for you?_ His own inner voice asked, starting to get on his nerves by now.

Slowly Severus moved over to the boy and regarded him lying on the bed. His bruised face looked peaceful. If he got lucky, he wasn't dreaming at all and enjoying a relaxing eight-to-ten-hour nap now. Enough time for Severus to take a break as well and think about a lot of things.

One moment his eyes lingered on the panther's fang around Harry's neck and he thought about removing it so the boy couldn't hurt himself with it. Sighing, he withdrew his hand and turned around, leaving the necklace to the boy. He'd be sleeping for hours anyway.

x x x

The street was deserted and the sun had already set when Vernon Dursley looked out of his living room window. He must have fallen asleep in his chair. Although it hadn't been long (or had it?) he felt less nauseated and somehow his senses felt sharper than before. Maybe not as sharp as the senses of a regularly sober person, but alert enough to notice the person standing in the doorframe.

'Where is he?' a cold female voice asked.

Vernon racked his brain with a level of difficulty which could probably best be compared with an athlete trying to sprint through jelly. After several seconds of thought Vernon got up from his chair. Standing in the middle of the room it rather felt like being on show and even he realized that this wasn't good. Another moment passed and the initial perplexity which had kept a question out of his mind vanished.

'WHO THE HELL ARE Y…' he started to shout but was interrupted instantly. It felt like his voice had left him.

'I am asking the questions here.' The woman explained coldly. With a flick of her stick (Vernon refused to think of it as a wand) he was being pushed back into his chair forcefully. A fraction of a second later the woman's eyes leveled his. He could even feel her heavy breathing on his skin.

'I will only ask one more time.' She started again, deliberate, without any haste.

'Where. Is. Harry. Potter?'

He felt the control over his tongue again.

'I SAID WHO THE HELL ARE…' he tried once more.

This time he felt a slashing as if the woman had cut him with a knife instead of a _stick_. He felt blood pouring from his fat cheek. His hand wandered to his cheek to examine the damage done but was beaten away dismissively by the woman without any effort.

'Tell me, Vernon Dursley.' The woman resumed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 'Is the boy really worth dying for?'

'What are you talking about?' This time he wasn't interrupted. His will to survive which had been stampeded successfully during the last few minutes by an oversized ego and loads of not so well thought through ideas had fought its way back up to the surface of Vernon's intellect and lunged out for a brilliant stroke.

'Well I have no idea where the boy is but maybe I can help you find him.'

'You?' The woman spat. 'Help ME?'

Obviously she didn't see his plan as brilliant as he had.

'I can tell you the boy is in trouble.' Vernon continued. _If I could just remember why._ 'I am eager to find him as well.'

'Well,' the snide cold voice asked. 'And how are you going to find him if you can't remember anything regarding his absence?'

_How did she know?_

'Do you think that I can't tell when a memory charm has been placed upon someone? Even someone as stupid as you…'

'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!'

Vernon was completely confused now. Yes. He couldn't remember more than usual when he had gotten drunk but after all he had had some very difficult days. At least that's what he thought. What was this absolutely lunatic woman ranting on about now? And he still didn't even know who _she_ was.

As if reading his very thoughts she smiled cruelly.

'Oh, nothing.' She repeated. 'And if you get lucky, it will stay that way. But for now I need some answers.

'_INCARCEROUS!'_ she shouted and with another wave of her wand thick ropes appeared, tying Vernon to his chair. His eyes protruded dangerously but he was unable to move. Fearfully he watched while the woman drew up a chair in front of him and pointed her wand straight at his temple. She murmured a few words and then his gaze went blank.

_And now you will tell me everything you know._

x x x


	15. A leopard can't change its spots

**Chapter ****15:**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended. This is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

_**Warnings: nothing specific **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 1****5 – A leopard can't change its spots**

Petunia looked up from her tea which had gone cold with her excessive stirring over the last ten minutes. The kitchen table looked rickety, as did the entire house. Still, the place had a cozy atmosphere and Petunia had to admit that she liked it here. _Yes. _Everything wasn't really new and _of course_ it was not as clean as it would be if _she_ were the one doing the scrubbing. But still… this was a place you could stay at for a while.

While she was regarding a particularly ancient tea pot on a shelf next to the kitchen door, a soft cough drew her attention to the woman sitting opposite to her.

'I'm sorry. What were you saying?' Petunia asked.

The woman smiled.

'I was just wondering how you are feeling now. It must be very difficult for you. After all you just left your husband.'

Petunia sighed. The last couple of days had been so different from anything she had ever experienced before. But actually breaking away from Vernon and seeking refuge in a strange woman's house was by far the most unusual. Now she found herself sitting in this woman's kitchen, drinking tea with her, and actually _talking_ to her.

Nobody had ever cared to talk to her. Ask about _her_ feelings. Oh, well, of course Albus had. But he didn't really have a choice, did he?

Realizing that she was already drifting off in thought again, Petunia blushed.

'Oh that's all right' the woman offered friendly. 'I do not want to pressure you to talk or share anything you would rather keep to yourself. I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help.'

Petunia regarded the sincere smile on the woman's face. Somehow her wrinkles didn't make her look old. Maybe wisened and sophisticated, but not really old. There was something about her she felt was trustworthy. At least as trustworthy as anyone could get in those circumstances.

'Maybe,' Petunia started hesitant. 'Maybe you could tell me what Albus said to you?'

The woman shifted in her seat, taking another sip of her tea. Then she put the cup back onto its saucer and leaned back.

'Actually I know very little. As of this moment my knowledge comes from what you have told me and a small note that Albus supplied me with.'

'But I haven't told you anything at all.' Petunia interrupted.

'Oh well. When you arrived here you said that Albus Dumbledore had given you my address and that he thought it would be a good idea for you to stay here since you just left your husband.'

That was true. Actually Petunia didn't even know why she had told this lady that she left Vernon, which by itself was embarrassing enough. But with a whining, clinging, small boy stuck to her leg and two bags in her hands, stranded on this complete stranger's front lawn, the confession of having left her husband couldn't make the situation any more mortifying than it already was.

'And what did he tell you in his note?'

The woman sighed.

'Actually, not much. All he told me was that he had given my address to a friend in need of some help.'

Petunia looked up, questioningly.

_And? _

'And nothing.' The old woman guessed right. With a sigh she added. 'Albus has always been _difficult_ when it comes to things such as this.'

'What was so difficult about telling you what we were up to?' Petunia interrupted again. She felt badly because the woman was really trying to be kind. Still, agitation about the Headmaster's behavior welled up in her.

'It's not like he didn't nose into people's business before and make decisions without being asked to do so.' She added bitterly.

'As to this, I fear, I cannot give you a satisfactory answer. All I can offer is my experience with Albus, if you are interested,' the woman offered.

Intrigued by the fact that she might at last learn something about the Headmaster without having him censor the account by offering the information himself, Petunia couldn't suppress her curiosity and nodded.

Taking another sip of her tea, the woman glanced to a pendulum clock which had patiently swung back and forth for ages and was presently suggesting that it was already past midnight.

'Oh that's alright,' Petunia said quickly, misinterpreting the look as well-intended consideration on the behalf of the older woman and fearing she would be cheated out of an interesting account on Albus Dumbledore. 'My son has been asleep for hours now and he doesn't wake easily. He sleeps a lot.' The lady smiled and nodded.

'I have known Albus for a very long time. Perhaps I've known him longer than anyone. He is without a doubt very intelligent. Maybe one of the most gifted wizards I have known.'

Petunia grimaced at this but didn't interrupt.

'Albus has always been a part of the magical world. With his family all being wizards and witches, he was brought up to live and love all things magic. Still he was curious and fond of learning new things, many of them too complicated for other people to understand.'

For a moment, the lady hesitated as if unsure as how to continue. Then she went on.

'The pursuit of these endeavors caused him to create various cornerstones in his life which, I guess you could say, define the basis for his approach to many situations. And he didn't always make the right choices.

'What do you mean?' A creased brow betrayed Petunia's initially dismissive façade and showed her genuine interest to learn more about the person that had caused her so much grieve over the past decade.

'I guess you can sum it up by saying that Albus was confronted with some tasks which overchallenged him. Maybe not intellectually, but emotionally. He made some mistakes.'

'What sort of mistakes do you mean?' Petunia was curious. For now, her anxiety was forgotten.

'Well,' the woman hesitated, 'haven't you ever come across a situation where you thought that you made a good decision but ended up in hurting someone you loved?'

With a guilty pang, Petunia thought of Harry and the miserable years of his early life. _No,_ she thought. I do not _love_ this kid. Still, if she were honest she would admit that she had made mistakes.

Her pained expression did not go unnoticed.

Knowingly, the old lady nodded.

'You see, there are always points in our life where we fail in making the right decisions. It is only humane to fail. But more important is what you make of this lecture.'

'What do you mean?'

'You can make one wrong decision, but there is always a way to make up for it. You only have to be willing. The worst that could happen would be that you grieve so much about the mistake you may have made that your attitude changes. Whatever the initial reason was, if you start grieving about too many things you start changing your behavior and will only make more and more mistakes.'

'I am not certain if I understand.'

'You can never undo a mistake. But you can try to amend.'

'Like make up for it?' Petunia offered somehow lamely. it was funny: although she hadn't done anything wrong, she felt like a small girl being lectured by someone far older and wiser.

'There are always ways to make up for it. But in grieving so much that your behavior changes, the attempt to amend will only cause further harm.'

Thinking hard, Petunia tried to catch up with what the woman was saying.

'Are you saying that Albus' grief over past mistakes has changed him so much that he is still causing further harm with his decisions even though that isn't his goal?'

'Sadly,' the woman nodded, 'this may just be the case. Think about it. Obviously he wanted to help you in your difficult situation and he told you to come to my place. He knows that I would never deny such a request of him and that I would take you in. Nevertheless he didn't confide in me and hasn't told me what happened. As I said, all I know is what you told me. Maybe I could be of more help if I knew what was going on and certainly it would have helped if he had told you a little bit about me before sending you here with your little boy, too!'

Petunia let the meaning of these words sink in for a moment. Then part of her initial anger at Albus Dumbledore was rekindled.

'He always thinks he knows best in making his decisions over the heads of all the people involved. He never even bothers to ask. And,' Petunia added this with increasing rage, 'he always manages to make it look like he has no other choice but save the world all by himself.'

Again, the woman nodded sadly.

'I am not sure if I can offer any other helpful comments, but I think that you pretty much understand where the problem lies. Albus made a mistake when he let his feelings and emotions carry him away once. This is human and natural. But instead of learning from this and moving forward, he became afraid of letting his feelings and emotions control his thinking. Having the brilliant analytical mind that he does, this was probably not hard to do. But I guess you understand what this means?'

Petunia hesitated. 'Tell me.'

'In my opinion, Albus is overly sensitive to any hint of conceived manipulation. He is determined to come to a decision by reasoning alone and blocks all other feelings and emotions out.'

'But that doesn't make sense!' Petunia interrupted. 'You are suggesting that he is making his decisions on facts alone and that would require an immense knowledge of what is going on. But if he really believes that this is best, why would he deny others all the information that he has? Wouldn't it be far easier if he let you know what has happened, or tell me about you, for example?'

The woman smiled. 'And now we have come to the heart of the issue. As I told you, you mustn't let past mistakes influence you so much that you change your behavior. Albus has come to the decision that he cannot be trusted with emotions and feelings when making a decision. He collects all information but shares nothing.'

'I still do not understand.'

'Albus has developed some strange views when it comes to making decisions and tackling problems, I fear. Although he thinks it best to make decisions on reason alone, he denies other people the same convenience. In his opinion, I am sure, he is convinced that he is actually doing others a favor. Deep in his heart he has realized that you cannot shut your heart, your feelings, and your emotions out when it comes to difficult issues. And deep down he knows that he is wrong by doing so. But a leopard can't change its spots. This is just what Albus became. I guess by keeping information from others he wants to make sure that they can still draw from their own emotions and experiences and that they won't make the same mistakes he did by looking at the situation analytically only.'

'I can understand what you are saying,' Petunia replied. She wasn't used to these sorts of conversations but was pleased to find herself keeping up with the robust lady. 'But you haven't taken something into account.'

'And what would that be?'

'Albus assumes that he can decide over other peoples' heads what to share and what to keep to himself. Who gave him the power to decide?'

'Now you have understood what I was saying initially. You can always make mistakes, but if you don't learn from them, you will only make more mistakes and they will become more serious. Albus thinks he is doing right. He justifies every decision he makes with the excuse that he wants to make up for a past mistake. That he wants to take the pressure and grief of other peoples' shoulders and burden himself with it, as a punishment, you might say, for his previous mistakes. But in doing so he takes away the people's right to choose for themselves what is right and what is wrong. And in doing so, he assumes a power over them which he is not qualified to hold. Thus he is just making more and more mistakes.'

Finally Petunia understood. The guilty pang returned when she remembered the conversation she'd had with Albus Dumbledore. Hadn't she known deep inside that it was wrong to let Harry live his miserable life? That her resentment, her overwhelming feeling of inadequacy, the fear to be worth less than any other magical person, _like her sister,_ had let her look away when she was supposed to interfere? _Yes_, she had known that these were mistakes. But she hadn't found a way to make up for it. Instead she only saw that every day, she belittled the boy more, made him more miserable so that he could finally hate her, punish her for what she had done. _Why couldn't he just hate her? _

'Maybe,' the old lady interrupted Petunias inner monologue, 'it is your turn to talk a little about yourself.'

Taking heart, Petunia took a sip of her cold tea, put the cup down with a little more force than necessary and began to talk.

x x x

Harry had slept well. In fact he couldn't remember having slept better in a long time. Although he couldn't remember how he got in bed and how long he had slept, he had woken on a soft mattress, covered with a soft blanket. Turning from his stomach onto his side he felt a stabbing pain in his wrist. Slowly he stretched his arms and feet and started to move various muscle groups as to check which ones hurt. He realized that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes and only his shoes had been stripped off.

The last day's events had been troubling and confusing. So much had happened. He had been taken away from his family (although they hadn't been nice, it had still been his family) and for a tiny moment he had thought that he would get to stay with Doctor Connor._ How childish. _

Then he had been placed in this weird man's care who was allegedly a friend of his mom. Harry didn't know what to make of him. Usually he found it quite easy to categorize people. Either they didn't mind him but were bullied away, or they were fed stories by Dudley or Uncle Vernon - like the teachers and kids at school - making sure that nobody liked him. Or they saw him for what he really was. A hassle. A nuisance. _A freak. _

And then there was Dr. Connor. Who had genuinely liked him and, for the first time in Harry's life, had believed what he told him. He didn't side with Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. He had even tried to help him. _He said I can come and visit if I make good progress_, Harry thought, caressing his panther's fang which still hung loosely around his neck.

Harry rolled back onto his stomach. His back still hurt a lot and the aching was only outperformed by the thudding pain coming from his head. It was hard to think when your head was hammering like this.

_How am I supposed to make good progress?_

Pondering his options Harry slowly got out of bed, looking out of his window at the vast landscape that unfolded itself in front of him. _Why couldn't he remember how he had gotten into bed?_ His frustration with the situation began to build.

He was supposed to make good progress but he didn't even know what was expected of him. Obviously his sphere, his sanctuary, had irritated a few people and there wasn't a lot Harry could do about it. After all, he didn't do it on purpose. _Although it had been nice to hear _her_ voice_.

It hadn't been one of his best moments, Harry had to admit. He hadn't meant to scare anybody that badly. Now, being well rested and having woken up in a soft, clean bed, all the things which had troubled him so deeply yesterday seemed somehow dull and lessened and having taken the scalpel from Tom seemed oddly childish now.

_What was I thinking? _Harry chastised himself. _Maybe I thought he'd get me back. Well that hadn't worked at all_.

But at the same time there were those moments when it was so hard to tell what was true and what wasn't. Sometimes when Harry found his emotions overwhelming him, it became easy to confuse things. So used to the way his uncle treated him, it was nearly impossible for him to believe others could treat him differently.

_He was so mad_. Harry felt the lump in his stomach return when he remembered fetching his belongings from the Dursley's place.

As if to shake off the thought, Harry shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingertips along the window. Suddenly a cough from the door made him jerk and spin around anxiously.

'I see you are already awake,' a voice commented.

'Yes.' Harry answered. 'Sir?' he added after a short while. Uncle Vernon had always liked to be addressed like this.

Severus nodded. Surely this was better than "Mr. Snape" and certainly he wasn't going to have the kid address him with his first name. Harry was going to show him the proper respect like every other kid in school did, although he couldn't call him Professor of course – not yet.

'How are you feeling today?' he inquired.

'Uhm. I guess I am fine. Sir.'

Severus sighed.

'Well how very precise. Perhaps I should have been a little clearer.'

'Sir?'

'Are you in pain?'

'Uhm.'

_Great._ Severus started to feel the tinglings of inadequacy, which he abhorred in himself. He wasn't good with these things and he'd told the Headmaster as much before this all began. And now he was repeating his mistakes over and over again.

Thinking that the annoyed look on Severus' face was impatience Harry's eyes widened and he quickly replied.

'Uhm, well, My wrist hurts. I fell down you see.'

_At least the boy is talking to me. _

'Is anything else hurting?'

'My head?' Harry offered. 'I bumped it when I…'

'ENOUGH!' Severus was already losing his temper again and his expression hardened. How he despised these excuses.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm not hurting then!' the boy answered quickly.

_Sigh. _

_This was all going so wrong. Why was this kid mocking him?_

'I am under the impression that you are telling me whatever I want to hear just to avoid a truthful answer.'

'Sir?'

'One of my rules in this house is that you will never lie to me. Is that clear?'

Harry nodded vigorously which made his head spin.

'I want you to be able to take care of important things and therefore you have to be well rested and healthy. Do you understand?'

_Nod. _

'As long as you are hurting I won't have your undivided attention. Maybe this is not the right time to discuss the circumstances under which you received your injuries. However, it is necessary to see to your physical condition which I will do now.

'So you are something like a doctor? Sir?' Harry offered.

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes. Was this boy really catching on so slowly or was he just mocking him? Despite himself, he tried to play along to make the whole process easier.

'Yes. I guess you could say for the moment I am your doctor. I will make sure that you are healthy and in a good condition and then we will have some things to discuss.'

This had sounded more serious than he had meant for it to be judging by Harry's fearful expression. He decided to clarify his position to ease the boy's fears.

'This discussion is not about your little stunt yesterday. I am referring to the sphere you are creating.'

Harry eyed him suspiciously. He wasn't certain if that meant that he was not in trouble. Until now he just knew that they were going to talk about something _else_ he had done, something else he had caused trouble with, _yet again_.

Before the boy could work himself all up with lots of unnecessary anxiety, Severus continued.

'I assume that you are still in pain. You will not be able to have breakfast, have a shower or do anything properly for that matter, as long as you are not healthy. Therefore I want to _help_ you get well again. Do you understand?'

'Yes.' Harry nodded. Maybe he could try to think of him as Tom who had said nearly the same things to him.

'Okay, here is what we are going to do.' Severus continued. 'I will need to have a look at your injuries and when I can be sure of their extent, I will be able to give you some medicine which is appropriate for your condition. Do you understand that?'

'Yes. Sir.'

The voice was small and timid. Severus noticed that much of the arrogance he'd expected to see from a _Potter_ was absent. _You only see what _youwant_ to see_, the annoying voice of his conscience bothered him.

But that was not true. Severus Snape had tried to look behind the façade of this little boy. He had done a lot of thinking last night and after all, he had decided not to force the truth out of the boy with some spell, hadn't he? He had even tried to be _nice_ to James Potter's son and had even begun to think of him as _Harry_ for that matter. Wasn't that enough for a good start?

And sure enough, he noticed, the small voice of the boy wasn't displaying any arrogance now. It was quiet and timid.

'I need you to sit down on the bed.' Severus started.

Obediently Harry walked back to the bed and sat down, sinking into the soft cushions.

'Please take off your shirt.' Severus continued. The boy didn't look at him but he could see that Harry's body became quite rigid.

_Sigh._

'You can - trust me, Harry.' He heard himself say and ignored the murmur of his mildly surprised inner voice. 'I told you that we will not discuss any circumstances under which you obtained any injuries. For now I am solely interested in restoring your health.'

Harry looked up and green eyes met the older man's gaze.

'No questions?'

'No questions.'

'No comments?'

'No comments.'

'Promise?'

Severus gritted his teeth for a moment. If there was any person or deity that was responsible for the destiny of people on earth, they were certainly having a blast with him right now.

'Yes.' He forced himself to say and couldn't refrain from adding, 'I told you that I do not tolerate lying or any kind of untruthfulness in this house. Do you expect that I put myself above my own rules?'

Harry blinked, processing this information. He had never given much thought what it would be like if the person who made up the rules abided by them too. _Uncle Vernon certainly never had. _

'No, Sir. I am sorry.' Harry added hesitantly. 'I didn't mean to say that.'

A subtle grin returned to Severus' face.

'Let us proceed then please.'

Slowly, Harry started to fumble with the sleeves of his shirt. Having been given a t-shirt which actually fit him, this wasn't that easy with a hurting back and hand.

Severus watched the boy's attempt to strip off his clothing without doing likewise with his dignity. Finally the boy sat in front of him, stripped to the waist.

At first he noticed that Harry was quite thin. Not overly malnourished, but just thin enough so you would notice. Second, he imagined that he saw little traces of scars here and there, dotting the pale skin.

Moving towards the bed he saw Harry's muscles tense. As not to engage in further discussions, he decided to get on with matters efficiently.

'Please show me your hands.' He started simply, hoping to ease the boy's fears. Harry stretched them out obediently, palms upwards.

Taking Harry's uninjured hand with both of his, Severus started to squeeze and feel here and there, bending it to either side, always watching the boy's expression closely. He didn't seem to mind. Taking his other hand, he noticed the pained expression immediately. Carefully he traced the scaphoid bone and each finger.

'Can you bend your wrist?' he asked. 'Without hurting,' he added quickly.

Harry shook his head.

'Alright.' No comments.

Letting go of his hands, Severus lifted Harry's chin with two of his fingers, looking him into the eyes. Then he held up the index finger of his other hand and started moving it sideways. Harry's eyes followed its movement.

'Does your head hurt?'

'Yes.'

With his index finger Severus carefully traced the glued laceration on Harry's forehead and inspected the bruising on his cheek.

'Close your eyes.'

Harry closed his eyes obediently.

'Is it better or worse now?'

'Worse.' Harry answered. 'I think I feel dizzy when I close my eyes for too long.'

'Alright. Please turn around.'

Harry's body was still rigid and tense, but he did as he was told. He turned around, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Now that he was facing the opposite wall, Severus didn't have to school his features into a neutral expression because Harry couldn't see him anyway.

_No remarks._ He reminded himself. _No questions. You know anyway. _

An uncomfortable lump had formed in Severus' stomach. There was no need to ask any stupid questions to which he already knew the answer. No need to irritate, no need to make the boy feel ashamed and worthless.

The cuts on Harry's back were undeniable and told Severus everything he needed to know. They had already scabbed and sure enough this showed him that at some point, they had been bleeding. Several bruises covering the small body completed the impression.

_Bastard,_ Severus thought and gritted his teeth once more. His grip on Harry's shoulders had reflexively hardened which made the boy jump.

'Sorry.' Severus mumbled and took a step back.

'Can I turn around again?' Harry asked hesitantly.

Trying to look very neutral Severus tried to stand very straight. Hands resting on his belt he replied.

'You may turn around again and put your shirt back on.'

Harry slowly turned around on the bed, still sitting cross-legged and started to fumble with the t-shirt again. Once dressed again, he eyed his new guardian carefully. He thought it was curious how the man appeared to feel as uncomfortable being scrutinized as Harry had just been.

'You know.' Harry stated. This wasn't a question.

'Yes.' Severus replied dryly.

'That's not what I meant.' Harry began, causing Severus to look very confused and lose his patience despite all intentions.

'It is not very hard to guess that you have been abused.' He pressed, clearly agitated now.

'No.' Harry shook his head calmly. 'You know what it's like. That's what I meant.'

_Silence. _

Severus was at a loss of words.

'I can feel it.' Harry continued. 'It's what you don't say. The way you look. You know?'

_No__._

'It's alright. I understand.'

This was going completely the wrong way. Severus gripped his belt very hard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

'Let us resume treating your injuries, Harry.' He tried to break through the uncomfortable pause.

The boy agreed, nodded, understood.

In silence Harry was herded to the kitchen. Inhabitants of pictures on the walls cast them curious looks. In the kitchen Severus gestured Harry to sit in a chair next to the table at the window. A bowl of cereals and fruit had already been prepared.

'I need to fetch your medicine while you start on your breakfast, Harry. I should be able to dose the vials more precisely now, alright?'

Harry nodded.

'Uhm,' he started when Severus was almost out the door, causing him to halt and turn around.

'I don't know if this is important,' he began and started to roll up his trouser legs, revealing a view on his scratched knees. 'It isn't really bad. Just a scratch. Just so you'd know, alright?'

Severus nodded and left for his store room. Taking more time than necessary to assemble the needed vials and doses he returned to the kitchen. Harry had already eaten most of his breakfast, his appetite seemed to have returned. Contrary to Severus – his appetite had gone.

x x x


	16. Turning Point

**Chapter ****16:**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended. This is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

_**Warnings: nothing specific **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter ****16 – Turning Point**

Harry had taken the vials without hesitation.

_What is he trying to prove now?_ Severus thought. He was feeling uneasy. And worst of it, he didn't even know why. Well, he knew why. Obviously _Potter_ had misinterpreted his actions and made him feel stupid.

_That's not true,_ the annoying voice in Severus' head commented. _And you know it. _

Harry regarded the Potions Master, deep in thought. He was feeling so much better since he had taken the vials. They had tasted horrible, to be honest. But he had gulped them down without wincing; he wanted to show Mr. Snape that he could be a good boy. He couldn't explain why, but he felt that this man was trying to hide something with his behavior.

Harry could tell. He _knew _what kind of secrets one was trying to hide when one acted like Mr. Snape. He had tried long enough himself. _Maybe,_ Harry thought. _Maybe I can help him so he doesn't have to be so angry all the time. _

'Are you done with your breakfast, Harry?' Severus asked. The boy had been fidgeting in his seat, staring at his nearly empty bowl of breakfast for a while now.

'Yes, Sir.' Harry replied. He wasn't sure how they would proceed from now on so he offered

'If you don't have any other chores for me, I will do the dishes now.'

'NO you won't!' Severus replied, annoyed. A second later he regretted his outburst, seeing the boy jump again.

'What's wrong?' Harry asked timidly.

'You do not have to act as my servant here,' Severus answered, a tinge of disgust in his voice. He hesitated for a second, then he continued.

'I have a house elf for these kinds of chores.'

_Silence._

'What's a house elf, Sir?' Harry asked, his brow furrowing.

'A house elf is a magical creature that is at service to a wizard's family.'

'Like a slave?' Harry looked discontented.

'No.'

_Well. _

'Actually,' Severus felt uneasy. He had never thought about this matter so much. Clearly house elves were delighted to be of service to wizards, you couldn't really speak of indecent subservience here, it was just _natural_ for house elves to be, well, servants. But they were no slaves. Severus was disgusted by the idea of keeping a slave in his household and turned the thought down immediately.

'Does the house elf live here, too?' Harry interrupted.

'Yes.'

'Where does he sleep?' Harry pressed on. 'Did you choose him to work for you?'

Severus was getting annoyed by all these questions. He was starting to feel worse about the house elf matter.

'I am not in the mood of discussing my house elf at present, _Mr. Potter_. I was rather of the opinion that we would be talking about you.'

'About me?' Harry was instantly on his guard, again. He had thought that he was having a nice chat with Mr. Snape for once. For a second it had been like he had changed. Or maybe Harry had only hoped that he had been acting differently for a while, _nicer_. But now he racked his brain for what he had possibly done wrong.

'Stop working yourself into another fit, Harry.' Severus interrupted him.

Harry opened his mouth, and closed it again, having received one final look of the Potions Master.

'I intend to speak with you about your magical abilities _and_ I will not tolerate any behavior referring to magical abilities as freakish nonsense,' he added midway, seeing Harry's mouth opening again.

A second time, Harry closed his mouth, uncertain what to say.

'There are some very basic rules that you will learn now, and I do not wish to repeat myself.'

Harry nodded vigorously, with rules he was good.

'People with magic abilities are different from non-magical people, which are called Muggles. But both have not asked for the respective position they are in and therefore cannot be blamed for it. They have to accept it as it is. Do you understand that?'

'Yes.'

'Magical people are in the advanced position of _knowing_ that there is a difference between them and non-magical people. Muggles are not so fortunate. Therefore a wizard has to appreciate the situation he is in. You have received special powers and you will value them.'

'But I didn't ask for them.' Harry interrupted stubbornly. He remembered all the times when he had used accidental magic and Uncle Vernon had punished him for it, saying he would 'get the freakish behavior out of him once and for good at some point.' Obviously he had never managed, but the memories were still vivid to Harry. He didn't like being _magical. _

Severus sighed.

'Now we have come to the second rule. You will accept what you are and therefore you will learn how to use your powers.'

'You mean there is a way of controlling everything?' Harry interrupted once again.

Severus saw a chance here.

'Yes, generally speaking. But it needs time and practice and depending on the time and effort you spend on it, you will be able to master very advanced magic.'

'Like what?'

Severus thought of Harry's sphere for a moment but decided that it was too early to touch this matter. Instead he said

'What would you like to do?'

Harry was puzzled. No one had ever asked him something like that.

'What do you mean?'

'I meant what I said, Potter. If you were to control your magical abilities, what would you like to do?'

'Oh.' Harry understood. 'Well. I don't know.' Something inside Harry spoke up. _You know what. _Actually there was something, but he was too ashamed of saying it out loud. Desperate for something else to say he replied 'It would be nice if I could make potions like the ones you gave me.'

Now it was Severus' turn to look puzzled. He wasn't used to little kids actually appreciating the difficult art of Potion Making.

'Why is that?' he asked.

'Well,' Harry scratched his head for a while. 'You know, I was hurting before you gave me all those potions and although they tasted awful, the pain stopped. They really worked.' Harry added, quite fond of them by now.

_I have never felt so good in all my life_ he thought.

'It is nice to hear that you are not in pain anymore,' Severus replied and to his inner surprise, he really meant it. He wanted the boy to feel well again. A child that had been through so much needed to feel safe, feel cared for. Not by him, obviously, but someone.

'Could you show me how to brew the potions you gave me today?' Harry asked.

'Do you suspect that you will be in need of any in the near future?' Severus replied instead.

Harry flushed, embarrassed as he understood the implication of his question.

'No' he added quickly. 'Well, that's not what I meant. You know. I thought just to know. Just in case.'

Harry felt stupid. Why was Mr. Snape mocking him? He kept doing those things… starting to call him Potter when he hadn't really done anything to annoy him. Giving him these looks.

Severus didn't like the direction this discussion was heading, either, so he decided to change tactics and give the child something useful to do. They might as well start with their first lesson.

Harry was herded from the kitchen through several floors until he found himself in a small library. Although it _seemed_ to be small at first sight, there were seemingly endless rows of bookshelves, some books looking very old and rather _odd_, Harry thought.

Severus gestured towards a small table with a chair in front of it, right next to a spacious window. It was nine o'clock and the sun was already shining brightly. Harry sat down obediently. Severus walked along the bookshelf and after a few moments grabbed a book which he placed in front of Harry with a thud.

'You will read through this book until I come for you. I have some matters to attend to and I expect you to study. I might ask some questions about it later on,' Severus added with a significant look, 'so don't think you can be lazy here. This is not a holiday.'

Harry nodded, suppressing a grin. Apparently Mr. Snape was trying to be stern again. Harry was still very uncertain how this was developing, after all Mr. Dumbledore expected him to stop creating his sphere. He didn't even know how he had done it, but maybe if he stopped doing it, if he made good progress, he would be allowed to go back to Tom.

Harry decided that whatever would be asked of him, he would do his best to comply so he would meet everybody's expectations and return to the people he liked.

One hour passed and Harry had read half way through _A History of Magic_. There were many pictures and although he had feared at first that he wouldn't be able to understand a book about magic, it seemed fairly easy to read. There were no spells, no curses; it was basically an introduction to the magical world and Harry was intrigued by the way in which it wasn't regarded as something freakish at all.

Another hour passed and Harry was still so immersed in the book that he didn't realize the Potions Master had returned.

'Not finished yet?' a snide voice asked.

Harry jumped and sent the book flying towards the floor. There was a reason why he didn't like people to sneak up on him. Frustrated he picked up the book and laid it carefully back on the desk. Then he looked at the Potions Master who was looking at him, seemingly emotionless. Harry thought that the dark shadows under Mr. Snape's eyes were even darker than before, but maybe he had imagined it.

'No, Sir. I am sorry. I…'

'Stop apologizing!'

'Sorry, yes. I mean. S… I meant, if you gave me another hour, I could finish the book. Please.' Harry pleaded. He wanted to do this good.

Severus pondered the youth in front of him for a while. He was not used to kids who did not regard reading school books as punishments.

'If you really enjoyed the book, you may read a bit more of it before you go to bed. But until now that will be sufficient.'

'What did you do?' Harry asked, his eyes moving towards the shadows beneath Severus' eyes again.

'That is none of your business, _Potter,_' Severus replied, a little annoyed. The boy was too attentive for his liking. 'I didn't ask for a guest and I have my own tasks to attend to besides hosting you. Do not expect that I shall be able to babysit you all of the time.'

'Why are you doing that?' Harry asked.

'Doing _what_, Potter?' Severus returned the question, a little annoyed by now.

'As soon as you feel uncomfortable you start being mean. Calling me Potter and looking like that. Yes, that's the look I meant….'

Harry's voiced ebbed away and he looked at the Potions Master with wide eyes. He knew he shouldn't have said it, but for a second, he had felt so daring. It was such a new experience to sense another adult to be so… insecure. Uncle Vernon had never been insecure. Harry certainly felt insecure around _him_, but apart from that…

A frosty glare had now appeared on Severus' face.

'Would you be so kind as to explain what you mean by that, _Harry_?'

Harry fidgeted. Fumbling with his fingers he decided that he had crossed a line and that whatever lunatic force in him had driven him to do so, he would have to be more careful in future.

'Sorry. I mean…'

'Yes?'

'It's just…' Harry sighed. 'Nothing.'

Severus rubbed his temples for a second. _There was no way the boy could possibly know._

This whole morning had been ridiculous. At first the boy had started to say funny things about _him_, and then, when Severus had thought that finally things were starting to ease up a little - the boy cured and safely in the library for his first study lesson - disturbing news had reached him.

x x x

A robust little lady was pacing up and down in the Headmaster's study. Albus was sitting behind his desk, eying her with an expression only students wear when regarding an especially strict teacher who is not in the best mood.

It was the first time he had felt so uneasy. Well, not exactly. There had been _many _times he had felt uneasy when he had had to make important decisions. But this was different.

The woman paced back to his desk once more and threw him an angry look.

'How could you, Albus!' Bathilda charged. 'For all I knew I thought that I had finally talked some sense into you!'

Embarrassed, Albus stroked his beard. He wasn't used to being chastised like this.

'Bathilda, I thought it was only for the best…'

'Exactly!' Bathilda interrupted, even angrier than before. 'It's you who always knows best, isn't it? The same old story all over again. Have you even thought one second about the consequences?'

Turning around, Bathilda paced back across the room, casting a look at the giant walrus of a man who seemed to have gone completely mad, sitting slumped in a groaning chair. Her gaze returned to Albus. Pointing her finger at Vernon, she continued.

'_This_ is your fault, Albus. What made you think that it could possibly be the best for the boy to stay with such a family? And then, when you finally realized that you had made a grave mistake, what did you do then? You just made it worse and best of all, you left this monster in the house, unshielded, where Bellatrix was sure to find him sooner or later.'

Bathilda didn't even stop when Albus opened his mouth to answer her question. After a while he closed it again, in defeat.

'Furthermore,' Bathilda continued, 'you ruined the lives of this poor doctor and his family! How _could _you!'

'A Fidelius Charm was put on their house in time.' Albus argued weakly.

'And that is certainly not thanks to you, Albus!'

Bathilda was beside herself. After she had talked to Petunia she hadn't been able to sleep all night. There was no way she could look over what Albus had done. After all this time she had thought that he was starting to act more responsibly when it came to power instead of misusing it. Now she knew that he had once again engaged in a large amount of secrecy and confusion until many people had been hurt or endangered. She hadn't believed her ears when Petunia had told her about the things that had happened with Harry, Vernon, the doctor and finally the _sphere. _

It was old magic, Bathilda had known instantly. She had barely managed to sleep for the rest of the night before telling Petunia that she would be out of house for a day. She had intended to stop at their house to have a little _chat_ with Vernon before she went to inform Albus of her suspicions, but had found him injured and very disoriented. She had been able to retrieve some information the Memory Charm had shattered until there was enough for her to know that Doctor Connor and his family were in great danger.

The last thing Vernon had known was that Harry had gone with the doctor and would possibly remain with him. And then Bellatrix had known, too. Bad enough that she had been let out of Azkaban 'in return for very valuable information for the Ministry of Magic'. But Bathilda hadn't doubted for one second that Bellatrix was still on the same side as she was back then. And now her suspicions had been proven correct.

It was the Connor family's luck that Vernon didn't know their exact address and Bellatrix hadn't found them yet. Contrary to Bathilda who knew from Petunia's story all she needed to know about their living place. It left Bathilda enough time to reach them and place the Fidelius Charm upon them. But now they would live in constant fear of being discovered.

_Another couple of lives ruined,_ Bathilda thought miserably.

Casting another angry stare at Albus and then Vernon, Bathilda erected to her full height and ploughed on.

'And _poor_ Severus. Could you at least explain why you had to do this to him? And the boy? The BOY!'

'You know what Severus has been through.' Albus replied. 'I thought he would be able to understand him best.'

'And you didn't think that it might help to give him some information on the boy? A subtle hint, even?' Sarcasm was giving Bathilda's voice contour now. 'Until now I always thought that you had finally started to see reason, Albus. But I have to admit it appears that I overestimated you.'

Bathilda seated herself in a heavy armchair a few paces away from the Headmaster's desk. Her face was flushed and her fingers clenched from anger.

Consternation was now showing on Albus' face, his brows furrowed, head bowed. It is one thing to be screamed at, blamed, and it was completely justified. But it was another thing to be finally given up on; ignored by the last person that cared - that had always cared. When such a thing happened it didn't matter if you were five, fifty or hundred-and-fifty.

'Bathilda' he started again weakly. 'What do you expect me to do?' Genuine hurt lined his voice and his features.

Bathilda sighed.

'I don't know, Albus. I just don't know. Why didn't you come to me before? No. I think we both know the answer. But what to do now? There are a lot of things that have to be taken care of. I am looking after Petunia and Dudley and I don't mind having them stay a little longer. But there isn't more space at my place and I am old. I cannot handle any more visitors.'

Scratching noises interrupted Bathilda and Albus and she both looked at Vernon, who had started to nibble at the couch, a funny look on his face.

'_He_,' Bathilda continued, 'should have gotten a nice trip to Azkaban, if you ask me. But I fear that it will have to be St. Mungo's now. At least for the moment. Dr. Connor and his family are hidden with the Fidelius Charm for the time being. It will work for the moment, but they cannot leave the house. It far from a long term solution, Albus.'

'I think his wife is working abroad,' Albus added quietly. 'Possibly, I mean. It does seem to be the only way. And the kids are still quite small.'

'You feel uncomfortable, as you should.' Bathilda looked like she was going to cry any moment. She knew that Albus didn't suggest something like that lightheartedly. Yet he was the one who had caused the situation in the first place.

'I have always tried to protect you, but I fear that it has been too much.'

Albus didn't look up from his desk anymore.

'How can you expect to meddle with peoples' lives without ruining them, Albus? Not even you can foresee all the consequences. And one of these consequences is the fact that the Connors will have to live in a distant country now unless they never intend to leave their house or see their wife and mother again.'

The sarcasm was back, as was Bathilda's rage. She just couldn't digest what had happened and in a way the feeling that she could have prevented some of this fueled her anger. Maybe she should have talked to Albus earlier. But there was no good in thinking about that now.

'And Harry.' She had a final tone about this.

'I came here to talk to you about his sphere. But I have since gotten the impression that you already know.'

'Bathilda, I…' Albus started again, but was silenced with a single gaze.

'You _knew._'

'Severus won't be able to understand unless he learns about it on his own.' Albus tried to defend himself.

'No.' Bathilda said sadly. 'It's you who doesn't understand.'

Jerking her head towards Vernon, she added

'I think the only thing you can possibly do at the moment is take care of his placement in St. Mungo's.'

Bathilda looked at a small clock hovering next to Albus' desk that indicated that it was already half past nine. Getting to her feet she walked towards the fireplace, reaching for some Floo powder.

'And in the meantime, I will talk to Severus.'

x x x

'What a pleasure, Bathilda.' Severus nodded politely.

'It's good to see you too, Severus.' Bathilda replied. 'It's been too long.'

'Excuse my straightforwardness, but, if you would, forego the pleasantries and just say what brought you here.'

'As it happens,' Bathilda smiled 'I am aware of your little visitor at the moment.'

Severus jerked his head, annoyed. 'Everybody was, as it seems, apart from me.'

'Maybe we can sit down and have a talk if you don't mind, Severus. I am not that young anymore and I would appreciate a cup of tea.' Bathilda said conversationally.

A couple of moments later the Potions Master and his unexpected guest were seated in the living room, two stirring hot cups of tea in front of them. A house elf hurried away with his head bowed, an empty tea tray in his hands. Severus was reminded of the discussion he'd had with Harry about house elves and shook his head as to shrug off the thought. With an inviting gesture he signaled Bathilda to start.

'I know that this situation is difficult and therefore I will not protract it unnecessarily.'

Severus nodded appreciatively.

'You are currently housing Harry Potter. James Potter's son.' She added. Severus glared.

'You must have asked yourself why Albus placed Harry in your specific care, when there were possibly hundreds of wizarding families that would have been delighted to take in The Boy Who Lived.'

Another nod followed, this time less vigorous.

'I was under the impression,' Severus interrupted, 'that the Headmaster wanted me to deal with some advanced kind of accidental magic the boy was using.'

'And because you are a very accomplished Occlumens it would most likely be an easy task for you.' Bathilda nodded, smiling.

'Well,' Severus didn't like the way in which he was praised, if he was. 'I guess the Headmaster was too busy with all of his very important tasks, all too crucial to be abandoned so _unfortunately _he didn't see it fitting to take care of the Potter boy himself after all he did to him.'

_Was Bathilda trying not to smile?_

'Indeed,' Bathilda continued, 'we seem to have arrived at the heart of the issue already.'

'And what would that be?' Severus didn't like the direction this conversation was taking.

'You have quickly realized that somebody has to take care of the boy. Poor Lily and James died far too young.'

'If you would, just continue, Bathilda.' Severus put his cup of tea back onto the desk, more forcefully than he had intended.

'There is more you have in common with this boy than his unfortunate past, Severus.' Bathilda bestowed him with a look Severus wasn't able to interpret. Was it care or pity?

When Severus didn't make any attempt to break the silence, Bathilda continued.

'You know that things have gotten out of control over the last couple of days. Harry does not enjoy the protection of his family anymore. His aunt and cousin are staying at my place, and Vernon is being brought to St. Mungo's at present.' She added, conversationally.

Severus glare darted up until he met the robust woman's eyes.

'What do you mean Vernon is being brought to St. Mungo's?'

Bathilda regarded the Potions Master who was sitting very straight now, his gaze nearly forcefully, as if he was trying to extract the information somehow.

'After Harry was brought to this Doctor…'

'Tom Connor.' Severus replied immediately.

'Yes. After he was brought there, Bellatrix paid Vernon a visit.'

'BELLATRIX!' Severus jumped to his feet.

'Yes. She has been let out of Azkaban only recently, as you are no doubt already aware, but the timing proved sufficient. When the Charm broke as Harry learnt that he was never going to come back to his house again, she realized it and tried to find him. Which she nearly did. Messed up Vernon fairly thoroughly, I might add.'

'Good.' Severus' voice was dripping with satisfaction. 'But what does this have to do with my relation to the Potter boy?' he brought the old lady back onto their initial path of conversation.

'Well, Severus.' She started. 'I am glad that you are discussing this matter so freely with me. The whole problem is that your _relation_ to the Potter boy, as you nicely put it, has been non-existent until now.'

Severus glared at her for a while.

'Severus.' Bathilda shook her head as if she was frustrated by his slow reactions.

'He is Lily's boy. You know Petunia and her family. You must have known that this wasn't precisely the best environment for Lily's boy to grow up in. After all there was, did you never think of taking care of him yourself?'

'There was _nothing_.' Severus pressed.

Bathilda smiled again.

'Who are you kidding, Severus?'

'That's none of your business, woman.' Severus was clearly annoyed by now. _How dare she start on Lily now! _

Bathilda decided to change tactics.

'The sphere.' She simply said.

'What about it?' Severus had gotten to his feet again and was pacing up and down alongside the desk. 'It is advanced, yes, but it was accidental.'

'Poor Severus.' Bathilda shook her head, pitying the Potions Master (which only enraged him further). 'You are still so angry, still so blind, that you have closed your eyes to see the most natural thing in the world.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?' Severus didn't like being messed with like this.

'Love.'

Nonplussed, he looked at Bathilda. Had Albus' talk finally penetrated her mind, too, spreading the good news to everybody who was willing to hear them?

'It is the love of a mother who tried to protect her son. She knew that she was going to die sooner rather than later and she was going to make sure that he would not be left unprotected once she left.'

'There were still the boy's relatives.' Severus added, less vigorously. He stopped next to the table and pinched his nose with his right hand. This was like a bad headache.

'Exactly. What a nice choice.' It was Bathilda's turn to be sarcastic now. 'Don't you think that Lily knew her sister well, and her husband? Her _husband_! Do you honestly think that she was happy about this, that she thought those were the people who were going to take best care of her little baby boy? Haven't you thought for one second that she might have wanted you to…'

'You are NOT going to make this my fault, woman!' Severus was fierce.

Apologetically, Bathilda held up her hands as if to appease Severus.

'Such anger. Such hurt. Severus, I did not come here with the intention to blame you. Quite the contrary. Actually I was under the impression that you knew that Lily was being talked into placing Harry with her relatives by Albus, who deemed this the only possible solution to keep the boy safe.'

'The blood wards.' Severus said simply.

Bathilda nodded. 'So please let me continue for Merlin's sake!'

Severus nodded silently, his fists clenched.

'I believe that you underestimate the friendship you had with Lily back then.' Bathilda continued. 'You may wonder what all of this has to do with Harry's sphere.'

_Silence._

'It is very old magic. Lily invoked some very ancient spells and placed them on her baby boy. They cannot be described with many words, they are best understood by the feelings the spell caster bestows upon the individual who will from that point carry those feelings and memories. They are placed so deeply in his soul, that Harry is not aware of it himself. And it appears up until this point those feelings were hidden too deep under the surface to be noticed by anyone.'

'Not even by Harry?'

'Especially not by Harry.' Bathilda nodded. 'Lily wanted to protect her boy, not confuse him. By bestowing all her feelings on him she wanted to give him some guidance and protection for the future. Direct him who to trust, how to act and possibly how to defend himself. Things have gone from bad to worse recently, and I think that is what has triggered Harry's outbursts, his accidental magic which manifested itself in this _sphere_. I suspect that this is Lily's doing.'

'How could that be?'

'She pulls him into his protective world when danger becomes too imminent, when he is too scared for a little boy to bear. She tries to provide him with the protection, love and security she was never able to provide as a mother once she had died. She offers him a sanctuary he never had.'

'What do you know about this sphere?' Severus didn't know if he was supposed to be angry or intrigued. The latter overruled his rage for a moment.

'I know that Harry acts intuitively. He is led by the feelings and judgment his mother bestowed upon him. I cannot know to which extent she placed her memories within Harry, but I am sure that it would be rewarding for you to find out. And this is what Albus thought.' She added, a little less enthusiastic.

'He WHAT?' Severus exploded.

'I know, Severus, I know.' Bathilda felt sorry for the young man who was yet again pacing back and forth, hitting the palm of his one hand with the fist of the other.

'How DARE he play with everybody around him like that?' Severus was beside himself. 'Did he not think, for only ONE second, that I MIGHT have wanted to know?'

'Severus.' Bathilda didn't even try to sound soothing, as she knew Severus would have objected to this. 'I cannot undo what Albus did, but I came here to be completely honest with you, and I came here to offer my help if you are willing.'

'Well that's a nice change, for a start' Severus always turned to sarcasm when he felt hurt, betrayed. As he always had.

'There is no need to lash out at me' Bathilda reproached. 'I just said that I am here to help you. I am not Albus and no! I will deal with Albus.' She added, looking at the Potions Master who had suddenly changed his path and moved towards the fire place Bathilda had emerged from only moments ago.

Severus turned around, frustrated, and suddenly realized that he had rarely lost his temper the way he had in the last couple of days. Things hadn't been perfect in his life, but manageable. And now everything he'd worked for seemed to be crumbling around him.

'Would you be so kind as to explain what all of this has to do with me?' Severus asked again, still agitated.

'Do I really have to tell you?' Bathilda smiled now, infuriating Severus once more. She ignored his clenched fists and continued. 'We are talking about Harry here. Lily's son. It's _her_ memories we are talking about here.'

_Silence._

Bathilda sighed. 'I wasn't going to put it so plainly but obviously there is no other way. She knew of your past and she felt that you could be trusted. She knew that you – of possibly all the other eligible and willing other wizards in the country – would be the best suited to take care of her baby boy. Only I fear,' Bathilda sighed now 'that she expected you to take him in a little earlier.'

'What do you mean by that?' Severus' fists were still white from the force he used to clench them together.

'The love and memories she bestowed upon him were possibly designed to help him make a smooth transition, to help him adapt to a new life once his parents were _gone_. But when no one came to fetch him and he was left with his relatives for good, the magic sank in deeper and deeper, only resulting in the accidental magical outbursts which often occur when strong magic has been placed and forgotten, unused.'

Severus was still not sure if the hand that was extended to him was supposed to help him up or slap him.

'Harry forgot who to trust. The memories must have faded until Harry didn't know who cared anymore. And his relatives did their fair share to make things worse, I might add.' Bathilda huffed angrily.

'There is only one mistake in your logic.' Severus interrupted snidely.

'And what would that be, Severus?'

'He didn't let me in.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'If the memories were supposed to tell him that I was the one to take care of him, why didn't he let me in? I wasn't able to penetrate his sphere although I was actually trying to help him. He was thrashing on the floor hitting his head pretty hard in the process, but still he perpetuated this sphere until I left the room, it was the only way to keep him from using all his energy.'

'But you left the room?' Bathilda enquired.

'Yes. I didn't stay and I didn't help.' Severus answered, annoyed. He didn't like how everybody seemed to mention how inadequate he had become.

'No, that's not what I meant,' Bathilda interrupted, her index finger hovering in front of Severus' nose. 'You weren't blasted away.'

'What?' Severus hesitated. 'Well, actually, no. I wasn't.'

'See.' Bathilda's smile was back in place. 'I told you that Harry's memories faded and you cannot expect him to trust any stranger now, especially not after what happened. But when he created his sphere to protect himself from Vernon, he blasted him a good way down the road.'

Severus thought about this. No one had bothered to tell him any details until now.

'What had happened?' he asked.

'Petunia told me that Dr. Connor was returning Harry home after he had run away. He was still sitting in the car when Vernon returned home, _drunk_ –' Severus mouth became a thin line – 'and he started hitting him. Smashed his head against the car and when he tried to do it again he was blasted away by his sphere.'

'Well,' Severus' voice was controlled and even. 'You see why Vernon was blasted away. Harry was being attacked severely by the man. _I_ did not hit the boy.'

'What did you do when he created his sphere?'

Severus paused for a while.

'Well. I didn't... He was injured and bleeding and I had given him a potion for it. It wasn't dosed correctly though because I had been _misinformed _about the extent of his injuries.'

'What did you do then?'

'Well I was going to have a look at him to make sure how injured he really was.'

'And he didn't comply?' Bathilda nodded.

'Well no. I shut him in but he kept running away in different directions.'

'You shut him in?' Bathilda looked incredulous.

Severus didn't like this look he seemed to receive so often now.

'Yes I did. I let him have his way for quite a while but after all he was injured and needed treatment so I went to fetch him and then he created his sphere.'

Bathilda smiled.

_What was this old hag smiling on about now?_

'Let me summarize that for you, Severus.' Bathilda said, ignoring his deadly stare. 'After this poor boy was dumped here by Albus, completely scared out of his wits, you gave him potions which probably made him feel even weirder. Then after never having experienced the effect of a potion, you shut him in! And you charged at him when he didn't comply with your rules. And,' Bathilda added sternly, 'I can imagine that you were probably not wearing your nicest expression or asked him politely to comply?'

Severus fumed. 'So what?'

Now Bathilda laughed out loud.

'Severus. Do I really have to tell you?'

_Silence. _

'You gave the boy _every _possible excuse to blast you away with his sphere. He must have been scared to hell, thinking you would just hit him like everybody else used to when he wasn't complying with a given rule –' Severus' flinch went unnoticed by Bathilda, 'and yet he was only shielding himself from you.'

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again.

'You cannot expect this poor boy to trust you immediately when he has not been able to get to know you for the last 8 years. Even old magic does not last forever. Harry probably subconsciously feels that there is something about you he might be able to trust, and that might be why he tests you –' Severus saw no need to mention the little episode with the scalpel now, but decided to judge the situation a little differently from now on – 'but you have to earn his trust back. And that might be more rewarding than you could possibly imagine.'

Bathilda looked very content now.

'I can see that I have given you a lot to think about, and by the looks of it – yes it's that look I meant – I have hit the right nerve here. Severus, you can trust me that I have been completely honest with you, but you have to take the next step now. It's you who has to decide what to make of this!'

And with that, she put down her cup of tea, dipped a handkerchief at the side of her mouth like old ladies always seem to do, turned around and disappeared into the fireplace.

x x x


	17. Nightmares Disclosed

**Chapter 17:**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended. This is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

_**Warnings: lots of heartache, abuse and mention of abuse **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 17 – Nightmares disclosed**

'Do you have a headache?'

The question was genuine, yet so very _childish._ Severus sighed once more.

'No, I haven't got a headache.'

'Are you tired?'

'No, I am _not_ tired.'

'If I am bothering you then…'

Severus held up a hand, silencing the boy instantly.

'Would you please be quiet for a second.'

Severus sat down in a second chair across the desk Harry had been studying at. Resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his folded hands, he regarded the boy for a while. Harry started fidgeting under the ongoing stare, not sure as what to make of this. He would have given everything to know what was going on behind the impassionate glance Mr. Snape was wearing all the time.

Another moment passed and Harry opened his mouth. Severus lifted his index finger and Harry instantly closed his mouth again, resting his chin flat on the table in front of him.

Severus had certainly felt uneasy when the Headmaster had asked him to take care of the boy. Although he hadn't particularly _asked_. He had been outraged upon hearing from Bathilda that Albus had played with him like that, meddling with everybody's life just as he always seemed to do. But what was frustrating him most was the feeling of insecurity he had experienced since the boy had arrived. He was torn between hate for James, sadness about Lily, confusion and curiosity about Harry and annoyed by the memories that had started to well up in him since this pitiable boy had been placed on his doorstep.

But worst of all was the fact that the boy had been left under the impression that he would be taught to control his power and let back home to his beloved doctor. Everybody had been under this impression. Until Severus had learnt from Bathilda that this arrangement was obviously no longer feasible. And who was going to tell Harry the truth now? _Exactly._

Severus didn't know what was worse, the state in which this poor boy had been surrendered to his care or the fact that everybody who seemed to be _so_ caring kept pushing him around, not caring one minute about the effects this could have on the mental stability of a small child.

Certainly he had healed his wounds and injuries. But what was worse was the pain that lay beneath the visible scars. Severus had planned to teach Harry how to control his powers so he wouldn't produce his magical sphere again and relied on Dr. Connor to deal with his "emotional distress" as he had obviously engaged in a close relationship with the doctor already.

Severus knew that he wasn't the type of person small kids enjoyed to be around with. He was the one others looked friendly next to. He didn't _care_ about children and especially not _for_ them.

Yet he couldn't forget what Bathilda had said about Lily. Possibly she had spoken to Petunia about many things, although she had only revealed some of it to Severus.

_Why haven't you come to take care of her boy earlier?_ She had asked. For heaven's sake! He had never spent a second thinking to take in the Potter boy. James Potter's boy. He had wanted to forget everything about Lily once she had died but found himself unable to do so. And now, he had started to look into her eyes every time since Harry had been dumped with him.

Severus had thought about this for a while once Bathilda had left, but he was certain: If this was going to work out, he would have to stick to the rules he had set up and that included that neither one lied to the other. On top of that he would not allow anyone accuse him of misinforming the boy, playing with him, or giving any excuse for him to be blamed once he had screwed up dealing with Harry Potter. No. He would be straight with him and everybody else would have to deal with the consequences.

_And maybe,_ the little voice in his head reminded Severus, _it is simply fair to be honest with the boy. _

Shut up, Severus thought. He knew that Harry was only trying to make progress to be let back to Dr. Connor and as soon as he revealed to him that he was not going back, he sure was going to have hell on earth.

With another sigh, Severus stood up from his chair and started pacing around, closely followed by the little boy's gaze.

_Where to start… where to start? _

Finally Severus stopped in front of the table and - although this was of course very unlike him - he felt the urge to crouch down, just so the boy would be able to talk to him better, _of course_. When their eyes leveled, Harry interrupted even before Severus had said a word.

'I have done something wrong, haven't I?'

Worried brows furrowed while a small lower lip was starting to tremble.

'No, Harry. It's not that.'

The boy shook his head.

'It's about what I did last night, isn't it?'

'What?' Severus was caught off guard for a second. So immersed in his own thoughts, he hadn't thought about anything else but a way to tell the boy that he was not going to go back. At least not for a while by the looks of it.

'You know what I mean.' Harry looked embarrassed now.

'I didn't mean to scare you. Or break your window. Or.. be a freak... STUPID I mean.' Harry corrected himself quickly when seeing the look on Severus' face.

This wasn't the way Severus had planned it, but he saw a chance nevertheless. Ignoring his slightly aching knees, he remained crouched next to Harry and said

'Alright. Why were you doing it then?'

'I can't tell you.'

'Why can't you tell me?'

'You said I must not lie, right?'

'Correct.'

'And I don't want to lie to you. But I just _can't _tell you the truth, either.'

Severus sighed.

'Are you embarrassed because of it?' he asked.

The boy didn't move.

'Do you think that I will be angry?'

Still no reaction.

'What do you expect me to do about it?'

Harry hung his head weakly. A timid voice replied

'I don't know. I guess you will have to punish me.'

'I was not going to punish you.' Severus replied.

Actually this was not true. The truth was that Severus had been enraged, and although Bathilda's account had thrown a different light onto Harry's actions, he had been very intent to have a chat with Harry about such behavior as soon as he thought that be boy was up to it. But now, when he was on the verge of telling him that he would not see his beloved doctor again for quite a while, _if at all, _how could he possibly tell the boy that he was not punishing him with it? Obviously it would look like this.

Harry looked up.

'I don't believe you.' A small voice said. Severus hardly would have believed that it was Harry talking if he hadn't seen his lips moving.

Severus shifted his weight and got up too quickly as his feet started to feel numb, causing Harry to jump violently.

'Harry!' Severus said agitated. 'Would you _please_ stop fidgeting all the time!'

'Why are you not telling me the truth?' the boy shouted in return.

'Are you accusing me of being a liar?' Severus lifted a questioning brow, annoyed and a little confused why the boy was seemingly reading his intentions so easily.

'Please,' Harry bargained now. 'Just get it over with, alright?'

Severus remembered that the boy had used similar words before he had gone completely out of his mind the last time. When he had tried to provoke him so much to… _well_.

'Alright. I will make this very short then.' Severus gave in.

With a mechanical nod, Harry got up and started to turn around when two hands were holding his shoulders, turning him back around.

'What are you doing, Harry?'

'I… I thought you were…' the boy looked puzzled.

'Sit down on your chair, Harry. NOW.'

The boy obeyed.

'I was going to _talk_ to you, do you understand?'

A small head shook from side to side.

_Sigh. _

'The Headmaster has told you that you need to make good progress to be able to learn how to deal with your magic, correct?'

Harry nodded.

'What did he tell you apart from that?'

'Uhm. That he would be coming back and get me back to Tom if I made good progress.'

A small smile appeared on the boy's face.

'I fear that this information has not been entirely correct.' Severus replied carefully.

For a while Harry's mouth hung open before he started to speak.

'What do you mean?'

'Something we didn't foresee has happened and… I fear that it will not be possible for you to go back to Dr. Connor for a while.' _There. He had said it. _

The silence was only short, then Harry sprung to his feet. Severus had expected this reaction. Taking a step back, he allowed the boy some space.

'You lied to me!' Harry shouted. Angry tears welled up in his eyes. Severus retreated for another couple of steps when Harry moved towards him, his hands balled to fists.

'All this talk about sticking to your own rules! ANY OTHER LIES?' Harry didn't even leave Severus a moment to answer.

Harry opened his mouth again but too incensed to continue screaming, he ran at the Potions Master and started pounding with his fists against the chest of the young man looking highly uncomfortable by now.

Severus tried to seize Harry's wrists but he only started to thrash around more violently. Tears were running freely across his cheeks now.

'IT WAS NOT MY DECISION!' Severus shouted agitatedly. His composure was ebbing away with every second.

'Yes it was!' Harry wasn't going to let anybody shove him around again and again. 'You LIED to me. You pretended to be nice. But you hated me the second I came to your house! Why did you pretend to care? Why did you even BOTHER?'

Severus gasped for air as the small fists were pounding his chest mercilessly. He wasn't even being given a choice to explain!

Finally he succeeded in seizing Harry's fists with his own hands and pulled him to the chair, seating Harry rather roughly on it. Harry's fists still held in his own hands, he crouched once more in front of Harry to make a final attempt to explain.

Even before he was able to open his mouth Harry pulled away from his grip.

'COWARD!' he screamed and spat him straight in the face.

Something inside Severus' mind snapped. Without being able to control himself, he lashed out to the boy, hitting him across the cheek. The force of the slap sent Harry flying off his chair. As he hit the floor, he edged back until he touched the wall beneath the window.

'I am sorry.' Severus gasped, eyes wide. He had taken a step back and stood now a few paces away from the boy, breathing hard. 'I never meant to do this' he said more to himself than anybody else.

'It gets easier after a while' Harry grimaced, holding his cheek where angry red contours of four fingers were starting to show. Tears were streaming down his face.

'I never meant to do this…' Severus mumbled again.

'At first Vernon used to say that, too.' Harry taunted, rubbing his cheek.

Severus wasn't even listening to the boy. Shaking his head slowly he sat down on the floor, resting his back against the other wall facing the window. Harry stared at him intently.

A long time nothing happened. Then Harry started to edge towards the Potions Master who hadn't moved since he had sat down.

'What's wrong?' he tested carefully.

Harry was confused. This wasn't the way such things worked normally.

When no answer came, he edged a little closer, just staying out of arm's reach for good measure, and asked once more.

'Are you alright?'

Severus gave a sarcastic laugh and shook his head once more, then he replied.

'I just hit you so hard that you fell to the floor, and you are asking if everything is alright with ME?'

Harry nodded, not understanding this weird behavior.

'I…' Severus' voice faded and he closed his mouth again.

Intrigued by this situation completely new to him, Harry dared to edge still closer. Very carefully he reached out his hand until he nearly touched the Potions Master's knee.

'I am sorry I hit you.' Severus said to no one specific, too ashamed to look at the boy.

'No.' Harry's confusion was growing. 'I spat at you and I insulted you. It was only natural of you to hit me.'

'Hah' Severus spat. '_Natural._ Is that what your Uncle would have said?'

_Why was it always the victim searching for excuses for the one who had just hit him? Trying to appease. Trying to explain. _

'No, you…' Harry started again, but now Severus interrupted him.

'NO! It was I who made the mistake. I revealed something to you which was very disappointing and I intended to explain, but you had every right to be upset. After all everybody has been lying to you. You were right to be mad at me. My behavior was inexcusable.'

Harry was nonplussed. This was even worse than some fights he had had with Uncle Vernon. This was just so _weird_. _And why was this man so upset just because he had hit him? _

Taking all his courage, Harry edged even further towards Severus and carefully asked once more

'Why are you so upset?'

If anything had ever betrayed Severus Snape's emotions, it had been well hidden. Those who had known had rather made assumptions upon what they knew of him, but they had always been guessing. Why did this boy _know_?

Taking a deep breath, Severus replied.

'Sadly you have grown up with the misconception that it is alright for an adult to hit a child, but that is not true.'

'But I annoyed you.' Harry interrupted.

Severus sighed once more.

'Nevertheless' he continued, 'it is inexcusable to hit a child. There are other means of disciplining a child.'

'Like what?' Harry asked.

'Well…' Severus thought for a while.

'Taking away their toys, for example.'

'I never had any.'

'Or punishing them with extra chores.'

'I was already being given lots of chores and on top of that I had to do my cousins' as well.'

'Or be sent to your room.' Severus sighed.

'I liked my r…'

'No!' Severus interrupted once more, punching his palm. Harry edged back a little.

'You don't seem to understand, Harry. What you have experienced is NOT NORMAL. Usually kids have toys and a nice room and they love to play outside and have _privileges_ which are then taken away if they misbehaved. The fact that you never seemed to enjoy any resorted in the consequence that you were hit to be punished.'

Severus halted for a while. He didn't know what was more surprising to him, the fact that he managed to speak with such ease about this topic or the detached and analytical way in which he did it, clearly not suitable for a small boy… yet the boy didn't seem to be troubled by this approach, for whatever reason. Probably because he didn't understand the scope of what he was trying to say.

Having regained most of his composure Severus remembered why he had needed to talk to Harry in the first place. Taking a deep breath he gave the boy a significant look.

'Do you think that I can finish my sentence without having you explode again? _Please?_'

Harry nodded.

'I was trying to tell you that something has happened which forces us to reschedule your stay here and with Dr. Connor.'

'What has happened?'

Again Severus pondered for a while. _No more lies_.

'Where you ever told why you stayed with your Uncle and Aunt?'

'Of course.' Harry said.

Relieved, Severus nodded.

'Then you will…'

'They were killed in a car accident.'

'They WHAT?'

Harry looked a bit taken aback now.

'I am sorry, I thought you knew. They were killed in a car accident when I was only very small. That's why I got this scar here' Harry nodded importantly, pointing his index finger to his forehead.

_There is no possible way, _Severus' little voice pondered. _No way you can tell him the truth about THAT. _Desperate, he racketed his brains to come up with a possible explanation. For a while he stared at Harry, wondering what might be going on in his head right now. Just when he was about to agree to Harry's information, a small voice inside his head piped up that wasn't his own. It was _friendly_ and in a way so familiar.

_It's alright, Sev. _The voice said. _He doesn't look like it. But he is strong. He can take it._

Intuitively, Severus turned his head, skimming his surroundings. Harry followed his gaze.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Nothing.' Severus' mouth was a thin line.

_Don't be afraid. _

He will tear down my house, Severus thought. There was no way he could possibly convey what had happened to a _child_ in a child-friendly way.

_Yes you can. _

Severus wondered why his own inner voice, so eager to bother him all the time, wasn't defending him now.

_Just give it a try. _

'Fine!' Severus said angrily, causing Harry to look very confused.

'I am sorry. What do you mean?' the boy asked.

'I didn't...' Severus started uneasily. Had he really said this out loud? Those pathetic voices had to stop!

'Harry, I have to tell you something about your parents that will probably upset you a lot. But there is no other way to put it and I do not want to lie to you, do you understand?'

'Yes.' Harry nodded vigorously.

'Your parents did not die in a car accident. They were killed.'

_Silence._

'Why?' Harry looked troubled.

'It is not that easy, Harry. What have you read in _A History of Magic_ until now?'

'Well…' the body fidgeted. He wasn't prepared to be quizzed and couldn't see what this had to do with this now.

'Certainly you will have read that there have always been wizards and witches, right?'

Nod.

'And you will also have read that just like with Muggles, there have been good and bad wizards. One bad wizard gained so much power that everybody feared him. Those who fought him had rarely a chance but nevertheless it was very important that they tried. Your parents were two of those people trying to fight him.'

'And he killed them?' Harry asked.

'Yes. They were trying to protect _you_.'

'_ME_?' Harry's mouth opened. 'But why would he want to kill me?'

Finally, Severus thought, for once a discussion is heading into the right direction.

'You are very special, Harry. Your magical abilities are very advanced and you have great potential. You must have known, done strange things before, you were able to produce your magical sphere…'

'But…' Harry started but was interrupted.

'No, Harry.' Severus continued undeterred. 'What you did is not usual. It is not common in the least. It was very advanced magic and probably only a fragment of your factual abilities. Your power was a big threat to this wizard who tried to fight anyone who could become dangerous for him. Your parents sacrificed their lives for you to stay alive.'

'So…' it was evident that the boy did some hard thinking. 'Did he die? The bad wizard?'

'No. Well. Some people said he died, but it is not so easy. There is no proof that he has really gone. Some believe that he still exists, somewhere, in whatever form, waiting for his return. AND' Severus pointed at Harry now, causing him to sit up very straight. 'This is where you come into play.'

'Me?' Harry asked again.

'Yes. You need to be able to learn how to protect yourself. Not with your sphere,' he added, seeing the look on Harry's face. 'But with controlled magic. You cannot rely on luck or intuition to defend yourself all the time. You have to become aware of what you are doing at any time. This is vital.'

Severus paused. What was the boy thinking now? Had his prep talk caused him to take these news so calmly now? Or was he so overchallenged by it that the information hadn't even sunk in yet?

Grateful that Harry hadn't exploded a second time, Severus regarded the boy. He had actually managed to speak to him in a normal fashion, for one second forgotten that he was the supposed arrogant Potter brat… no. Actually he hadn't thought of him like that since he had discovered all those things Harry had been trough. His behavior was so unlike a spoilt child, so detached and planning, careful and yet angry at the same time. He was so like… _him. _

x x x

Harry was lying in his comfortable bed and rolled back to his stomach, for what felt like the thousandth time this night. He had to admit that this had been one of his better days recently. Yet it had given him so much to think about.

After a very confusing start with Mr. Snape – now he was sorry that he had spat at him – he had been very surprised to discover that he was actually sticking to his own rules. He hadn't lied to him, actually he had told him the truth about his parents. The first time in his life somebody had! Later he had even offered to answer any questions Harry might have had, but he had refused. There had been many, but he didn't want to give away his emotions, his thoughts, just yet. So he had been allowed to wander the grounds, play in the garden and discover.

Only interrupted by lunch and later dinner he stopped his wandering through the gardens and returned to the Manor which he started to like more and more. Intrigued by the moving pictures he had discovered that some which were inhabited by wizards or witches would actually talk to him – if you were polite enough. They even aided him in finding his ways through the Manor and by the evening there hadn't been much need to ask anymore as he was finding his way fairly well now.

There was a moment of awkwardness when Harry had been put to bed. It seemed that neither Harry nor Severus were familiar with a regular bed time procedure so Harry had been told to brush his teeth, changed into pajamas Severus had supplied him with and finally went to his room. He had gone to bed – and now he was lying here and couldn't fall asleep. There were just too many things he had to think about. Too many unanswered questions.

Harry found himself wondering what Aunt Petunia and Dudley could be up to. Or Uncle Vernon. Although he certainly didn't _miss_ him. He was just being curious. And Petunia _had_ been trying to be nice to him, after all…

Rolling back onto his side, Harry punched his pillow in shape and closed his eyes. Before he noticed, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

x x x

The small boy stared at the enraged man.

'I don't know what happened!' he pleaded. 'They money just disappeared.'

'You are a LIAR! You stole it!' the man thundered.

'No, I promise. I was just playing and then it disappeared…'

'Money doesn't just disappear, you FREAK!'

The man was white from rage. With long strides he closed in on the boy, yanked him by his arm towards the door, turned the knob and pushed the boy into the wet street. It was raining. The force of the movement had sent the boy flying to the ground, scratching his knees on the stones on the road. The boy stumbled to his feet again, pleading.

'Please don't… I will get it back somehow.'

'You better will, or don't bother to come back!' the angry man shouted his reply.

With a bang the door was closed and the scene disappeared.

Moments later the boy found himself hiding behind some trees. He had stolen some money from playing kids nearby – one was crying desperately now, getting chastised by her sister for losing their lunch money. But the boy didn't care. In an undiscovered moment, he ran back to his house, relieved that he would be able to return the money somehow. Upon his return to the kitchen, the man stood even angrier than before, holding the re-appeared money in his hands.

'You think it was funny to hide this from me?' he thundered. 'Annoy me, just for the fun of it?'

The boy tried to slip the note he held in his hand back into his pocket but failed to do so unnoticed. Evil eyes followed his movements.

'Now you are in trouble,' the man spoke with an icy voice. Then he closed in on the boy.

Again the scene disappeared and reformed moments later.

The boy was much older now. Taking in his surroundings he couldn't figure out where he was, he just noticed the cold and darkness crawling under his skin. Every bone is his body was aching and he desperately wished to be somewhere else. He started thrashing around with his hands and feet, scratching at the wooden boards closing in on him until he felt the darkness lose its intensity. A door was being opened and he could make out a silhouette standing in the frame, unbuckling his belt, slowly moving towards him. He tried to edge back but found an invisible force restraining him, he wasn't able to move.

Desperate for something to do he started to shout. At first, it was only a feeble call, but soon it gained power until the boy was shouting forcefully.

With a gasp, Severus Snape awoke.

x x x


	18. Opportunities

**Chapter 18:**

_**Disclaimer/AN: **_I don't own and don't make any money with it. No copyright infringements intended. This is purely for my and other reader's leisure.

_**Warnings: nothing specific **_

**Please Come For Me - Chapter 18 – Opportunities**

Severus' face was pale and sweaty. His heart was pounding against his chest. _This was ridiculous._ The most evil wizard he had faced, lived through unspeakable tortures… and yet nothing came close to these fears inside him, stuffed down to the depth of his heart, _nearly forgotten_.

He had gotten over it – at least that's what he had always been telling himself – and continued with his _manageable _life. But since Harry had arrived at his doorstep, beaten, broken and insecure, long forgotten memories had resurfaced.

_Although_, his little voice interjected, _he does not seem to be so broken after all. _

Unconsciously, Severus nodded. Harry had indeed proven to possess a quite strong character. Although they had only touched the surface of many problems as it seemed to Severus, Harry had behaved in a rather normal fashion for a child – maybe even too normal, regarding his position. He seemed to be able to adjust, willing to learn, there was something in his eyes that was desperate to scream out to the world that he was still alive. _Those eyes. _

Wiping off the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt Severus got up. Taking a look outside his window he realized that the moon was still standing high, illuminating the gardens in front of the manor way down to the forest where they were absorbed by constant semi-darkness.

Suddenly he turned around and headed for the door in quick strides. Opening it very silently, he walked across the hallway to Harry's bedroom. Although they were not wall-to-wall, they were still on the same floor so it couldn't hurt to check, for good measure.

With a faint creak the door opened. Moonlight fell onto the soft cushions of Harry's bed. _It was empty. _

With quick strides Severus reached the bed almost instantly. He crouched down and looked under the bed – still no Harry.

Just when Severus cast a suspicious glance at the re-built window he heard a little sob coming from inside the wardrobe. He held his breath and there again… very faint… were a few sobs, hardly audible for anyone less attentive than Severus.

'Harry?' His voice sounded unnaturally soft.

No reply.

'Harry?' Severus asked, his voice stronger now.

The sobs stopped, yet there was no reply.

With a sigh, Severus moved to the wardrobe and opened one door. Although it was not spacious, Harry had managed to hide beneath some longer coats hanging from the clothes rail, pressing a jumper to his face to muffle the sobs. Severus reached for the jumper and lowered it with reassuring force until two wide eyes were looking at him fearfully.

'Harry what's wrong?' Severus asked.

Still no reply.

Severus thought about yanking the boy out of his stupor but decided against it. Harry's behavior was alarming him.

Desperate to do something Severus crouched down and seated himself opposite Harry. It wasn't very comfortable, but at least their eyes were leveling now. Probably happy wasn't the right word, but at least Severus felt relieved that he could take care of Harry now, distracted from his own inner nightmares.

Severus realized that the floor was quite cold. He was only wearing pajama trousers and a black shirt. With his knees in front of him and his arms rested on his knees, Severus tempted for his most reassuring smile – if there was anything like it in Severus Snape's emotional repertoire – but the boy did still not move. Instead he started to mimic Severus' movements and hugged his knees to his chest. Then he started rocking back and forth softly.

'You know,' Severus started conversationally, 'it's a rather pleasant night. Have you seen the full moon yet?'

A small nod followed.

'I can only speak for myself, of course' Severus continued carefully, 'but I rather enjoy the nighttime. It is calm and peaceful, the moon shines beautifully…'

'I don't...' a timid voice said. He hadn't seen Harry's lips move.

'How come you don't?' Severus asked.

'Dunno…' the boy was shifting his position now but still didn't dare to get up.

'Why are you not sleeping, Harry? Is there something wrong with your bed?'

'No, it's fine.' Harry said miserably. 'I… it's just…'

'What is it?'

'Nothing.'

_Sigh. _

'You don't have to be embarrassed Harry.' Severus tried carefully. 'Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise that I won't laugh.'

The boy looked up to him, still undecided.

'Look Harry.' Severus tried once more. 'I know we have only known each other for a very short time but I think that I have been very straightforward and honest with you. You know that you can trust my word and when I say that I won't laugh, you can believe me that I won't. Does that sound fair?'

A hesitant nod followed.

Severus thought that he was being more than fair. After all he had previously promised Harry not to ask about his injuries and he hadn't. _Well._ It had been obvious anyway. But that was not the point. The point was that he had promised something and Harry had no reason to believe otherwise. And apparently the boy had come to this conclusion, too.

Slowly, Harry leaned in on Severus, his voice conspiratorially soft.

'You will get mad.'

'Harry. I promise that I will not get mad. But you have to tell me what is bothering you, otherwise I cannot help you.'

'I wet my bed.' Embarrassed sobs accompanied this confession.

Of all things, that was probably the least Severus had expected. After all, the boy was already nine years old! On the other hand, Severus wasn't particularly familiar with the abused child's psychology. _Well. _At least not from such a scientific point of view. He made a mental note that he would have to do some reading on this matter.

Trying to think of something harmless to say, Severus replied.

'Well that happens from time to time. After all you are new to this home and well, nothing we couldn't clean up easily.'

When the boy still didn't move Severus got up and turned to the bed. Retrieving the covers, the smell of urine stung his nose. He grabbed his wand from the waistband of his pajamas – rely on Severus Snape never to leave his wand behind – and with a small fluid movement, the smell and dampness vanished, the sheets straightened out and the pillows shook themselves up in a comfortable, inviting position. With a nod, Severus turned around again.

'There you go Harry, good as new. You see?'

Miserably, the boy nodded.

'I imagine that you would prefer to change into other clothes, too? Unless you allow me…' he waved his wand at Harry.

Again, the boy nodded slowly and seconds later, he ran his fingers across dried and comfortable clothes.

'Would you mind getting out of that wardrobe and talk to me now, Harry?' Severus tempted carefully.

With tiny movements, Harry started to edge towards the wardrobe door and finally got up, standing in front of Severus, hanging his head.

With some quick strides Severus reached the bed and seated himself on it, gesturing to Harry to do the same.

Hesitantly, Harry followed, sitting down at the other end of the bed, almost instantly hugging his knees to his chest again.

'What happened tonight?' Severus started, his face not betraying a single emotion.

'I got scared.'

'What scared you?'

'I… I was dreaming … stuff… you know? And suddenly I thought I'd heard someone screaming.'

At that, Severus' expression hardened. He was relieved that it was too dark for Harry to make out his expression as he was sitting with his back against the window. It was Harry who was facing the window, moonlight falling onto his pale skin.

Severus didn't know how to reply to this. This night hadn't been particularly easy for him, either. Although he didn't know why, he suddenly heard himself say

'You know, sometimes we all do dream scary things.'

Harry looked up but still couldn't make out Severus' expression. Instead he said

'In my dreams, everything feels so _real_, you know? Like everything happens _for real._ But I can't do anything about it.'

Severus felt the uncomfortable lump in his stomach again. Why was the boy always touching a nerve?

For a while both sat and stared at each other, not betraying their thoughts. After what felt like ages, Harry spoke up once more.

'If I promise to be very quiet. And promise that I won't bother you. Or say anything at all… would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for the night?'

A pained, fearful expression accompanied Harry's face. Severus thought he hadn't heard correctly. Harry, the Potter boy, was asking to stay with _him_, for comfort? Yet he had to admit that he would have expected to feel less comfortable with this suggestion than he actually did.

'I can't see why not, Harry.' He replied. Maybe he imagined it but he thought that for a fraction of a second he had seen a smile on Harry's face.

'Let's go then' he said and got up from the bed. Grabbing Harry's blankets he added 'take your pillows please' and walked to the door, followed by the small boy, hidden beneath two giant pillows.

Back in Severus' bedroom he enlightened a fire in the small fireplace next to his bed. With another flick of the wand he conjured a mattress and several sheets right in front of the fireplace.

'Do you think that will do?' he asked the boy.

With a grateful nod, Harry placed his pillows on the mattress and lay down without another word.

With an awkward feeling Severus placed the blankets on Harry and moved towards his own bed again, before the impression of him tugging in the Potter boy would make its way to his consciousness.

'Good night then' Severus said to the snoring blanket.

The boy had already fallen asleep.

x x x

Albus was facing Bathilda with a hesitant smile. He wasn't keen on reliving the recent episode, but for once, Vernon was placed in St. Mungo's by now and secondly, Bathilda was looking less angry than before. At least that was what he hoped her less-than-deadly stare was supposed to communicate.

'I can only repeat what I said to you already,' he started. 'I am very sorry that things worked out this way. I thought that I was making the right decisions but obviously I have been very wrong.'

With a neutral expression, Bathilda nodded. Then she added

'But what do you think will happen from now on? What about Harry and Severus? And Petunia, Dudley…'

'Well.' Albus pondered his thoughts for a while. He understood that he was kindly being asked an opinion, but he didn't seem to have much say in this anymore.

'I think Harry is placed in good care with Severus. But maybe it would help both to make this arrangement more… permanent.'

Bathilda's mood seemed to lighten considerably upon hearing this. With a nod she replied

'That is _exactly _what I thought. After all, there are also the legal matters to be considered. Of course' she added, 'Severus will have the final say in this. And Harry's opinion should be considered too, that's the least we can do.'

Albus nodded in agreement while Bathilda pondered the unspoken question.

'If he were to become Harry's permanent guardian he would not only be entitled to provide a permanent shelter for him, he would also be in charge of making the most basic decisions for the boy – and unless he is put in this position and guaranteed some sovereignty, I cannot see how he can fully attend to Harry's needs.'

Again, Albus nodded.

'Perhaps you can speak to Severus about this matter and I could make some arrangements with the Ministry of Magic.'

Glad that Albus had understood her subtle hints, Bathilda nodded. Of course she had good relations to the Ministry too, but her ambitions had always been less _political_ than Albus' had seemed to be. While she had been content with a purely scientific exchange of expertise amongst professionals from the Ministry and other fields, Albus always seemed to have been connected to those in power in another, more feasible way. For him it was easy to get whatever he wanted. Yet there was one last thing…

'I am glad that you are of my opinion, Albus.' Bathilda started conversationally. 'Yet I think it would help a great deal if _you_ spoke to Severus.'

Upon this, Albus looked up, obviously displeased. 'Dear Bathilda, I am sure that I am the last person he wishes to speak to right…'

'Nevertheless' Bathilda objected. 'I think it is _high_ time for an apology, don't you think so?'

'He won't accept it' Albus replied.

'No.' Bathilda agreed. 'Probably he won't. But that's not the point, is it? It's about you admitting that you have hurt his sovereignty by making decisions over his head. How could he possibly consider taking custody over Harry if he himself did not feel completely self-reliant, always dependent on your good will? No Albus. This is not about you or your hurt pride. This is about the boy. _Both_ boys for that matter.'

There was some finality in her voice and something told Albus that this part of the discussion was over.

'I will send an owl as soon as I can and see if he is willing to have a conversation.'

This seemed to please Bathilda.

'What about Dudley and Petunia then?' Albus tried to move towards steadier grounds again.

'Well,' Bathilda was hesitant. 'For the moment, I am happy for them to stay with me. I doubt that they will be able to return to their home. It doesn't seem very safe to me now that Bellatrix has been there. I don't know if she would go looking for them back there, yet I wouldn't want to risk it. I guess we will have to look for something suitable if Petunia wishes and until we have found something more permanent to offer to her, she may stay with me in the meanwhile.'

'How are they coping?' Albus asked.

'I am not sure, Albus. Petunia seems relieved although I can tell that she is tormented by her inner struggle. After all, it is a lousy situation. As for the boy, I think he is only starting to digest what's happening now. I am not sure what to do about him, to be honest. I guess that is up to Petunia to decide. After all she will know how to handle her little boy best. At least that's what I hope', she added, a tinge of skepticism in her voice.

x x x

The boy had been whimpering in his sleep. Severus Snape lay in his bed, facing the ceiling, a book resting on his stomach. The fire had burnt down by now and left were the embers radiating pleasant warmth from the fireplace.

Severus had tried to go back to sleep. Possibly he had closed his eyes for a couple of times in the last hours, yet it felt like he hadn't slept at all. Interrupted by occasional whimpers and mumblings of the boy which sounded like 'please' and 'don't', he had listened to his irregular breathing. When he hadn't been able to go back to sleep, he had ultimately conjured a book from the 'Muggle Studies' section of his library which was significantly well equipped and started on a book about child psychology. It couldn't hurt to understand a couple of things, he had thought, for purely professional reasons, of course.

A feeling had manifested itself in his stomach that a neutral bystander would possibly have labeled "protective" or "caring". To Severus, this still felt very bewildering, so for the moment he liked to think of himself to be merely monitoring the boy's behavior in order to act appropriately.

The boy shifted from one side to the other once more, now facing away from the fireplace towards Severus' bed. Automatically Severus lifted his head for a few inches and turned to look at Harry. He was still asleep.

Turning back to his book, he took it up and turned the page. The psychologist who had written this book suggested that traumatized children needed to voice their terrors in order to avoid serious psychological illnesses later on. Mentally, Severus ticked off a list of behaviourisms Harry had sported – as far as he could tell by now. But how was he – of all – supposed to provide Harry with a safe environment to face his fears and voice his thoughts? It seemed like it was all there. The boy just needed to put it in words.

Severus thought about letting Harry write a journal but dismissed the idea quickly. That was not the point after all, he thought. Whether he keeps his thoughts all to himself or writes them down in a journal won't do the trick, he has to voice them, somehow _confront _them.

Suddenly, an idea struck Severus' mind and with a smile he lay the book aside, rolled to his stomach and fell asleep.

x x x

'_Dear Harry, _

_I know the past days have been very hard for you, and to be honest I am just as surprised as you were about these developments. Samuel and Mary Lou are missing you as they enjoyed your company a great deal. And I am missing you too. _

_I am sorry that we didn't get to talk to each other for a longer time. You must have felt very hurt when you were told that we wouldn't be seeing each other again so soon. I was told that by now you are aware of the circumstances under which your parents died and in what danger we are all in. I am sorry that I wasn't able to take better care of you after I promised to do exactly that. _

_Breanna and I are staying at a secret and safe place at the moment, of course we took the kids with us. I am not sure how things will develop, but until all the excitement has died down I fear we won't be able to meet again. _

_If it is of any comfort to you, I want to let you know that you can write to me and the kids anytime, about whatever you might want to speak about. I will always be happy to listen._

_Samuel and Mary Lou are saying hi, take care of yourself Harry. _

_Tom'_

Harry folded the letter and carefully tucked it into the pocket of his pants.

'And you say an owl brought this?' he asked incredulously, for the umpteenth time.

'Yes.' Severus nodded, slightly bemused.

The rest of the night had gone well. Although he had only slept for a couple of hours, he had been awake just before Harry. With a flick of his wand, Severus had made the mattress, blanket and pillows disappear – the disappointed look on Harry's face did not go unnoticed – and announced that it was high time for breakfast.

As soon as they had arrived in the kitchen Severus had noticed a letter on the kitchen shelf, next to an opened window. An elegant handwritten note was attached to it.

'_Dear Severus. I know that I am the least person you wish to speak to right now, but I kindly ask you to hear me whenever you find the time. I think there are a few things that still need to be discussed and some others, which should not pass unsaid, either. _

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. find attached a letter from Tom for Harry. Bathilda spoke to him and they agreed that – although the unfortunate situation forbids them to meet in person – that they should pursue their contact, although it may be via written communication only for the time being.'_

With a silent nod, Severus had read through the notice and handed the letter to Harry who had been watching him curiously.

'Have you finished your breakfast yet, Harry?' Severus asked now, noticing that Harry had started to stir his cereals unenthusiastically by now.

With an anxious look that carefully tried to measure Severus' mood Harry put the spoon aside and crossed his hands in his lap, looking down.

'Sorry' he mumbled. Uncle Vernon had never liked it if he had played with his food, being ungrateful.

Severus sighed but decided not to comment. Those habits were hard to shake off.

'Do you have anything in mind you would like to do today?' Severus asked conversationally.

Harry looked up in surprise.

'What do you mean?'

Sometimes the boy was really slow on the uptake, Severus thought with a smile hidden underneath his schooled features.

'Well, some activity you enjoy.'

Harry thought about this for a while. He had always enjoyed visiting the playground back in Little Whinging. But here there didn't appear to be one close by, let alone other kids to play with.

A furrowed brow betrayed Harry's thoughts.

'What is it, Harry?' Severus asked.

'You have been telling me all this stuff about Hogwarts and I was wondering if you would be able to take me there at some point. It would be nice to see, just what it's like, you know?'

_Just what it is like to be normal for once_, Harry added mentally. He was desperate to meet some other kids who were supposed to be like him. He couldn't quite imagine yet that all his freakishness was supposed to be something regarded _normal_ by the magical world.

Severus was pleased about the sudden opportunity that had presented itself to him and with a smile he nodded.

'I will let the Headmaster know that we will be visiting in the afternoon, until then there are some preparations I have to make.'

A genuine smile appeared on Harry's face and Severus noticed that he managed to look into the child's face without any of the resentment he had preserved for the Potter Boy all this time.

'I think it would do well for you to accompany me to the library, then you can continue reading the book I gave you and I will be able to make my preparations.'

With that, Severus turned around sharply and moved towards the library with quick strides. Constant shuffling noises trailing him asserted him that the boy was indeed following.

In the library, he motioned towards the desk, causing Harry to take his place. With a flick of his wand _A History Of Magic_ hovered towards the desk until it fell down in front of Harry with a thud. Immediately, the boy began reading. With a smile, Severus moved towards another desk standing next to another high window in the room where parchment and quills lay prepared for someone who did a lot of writing.

Severus decided that another letter sent by owl would take too long to be delivered. After all they had quite spontaneously decided to travel to Hogwarts today. He moved into a different section of his library to a fireplace from which he could contact the Headmaster. Taking a pinch of power from a bag resting on a nearby table, he threw it into the flames, saying "Albus Dumbledore's Office" very clearly.

Only seconds later, Albus' head appeared in the flames, looking rather pleased, much to the annoyance of Severus.

'Dear Severus. Have you received my letter?' the Headmaster asked.

'Yes', Severus replied curtly. 'And I wish you to speak to you about something we need to arrange. It concerns Harry's wellbeing and it of utmost importance.'

Without giving Albus a chance to say a word, Severus continued, the Headmaster listening very attentively.

x x x


End file.
